Truth
by Wynn D. Fae
Summary: College student, Bree, finds herself caught between the battle between the Resistance and the machines, and is sent to live as a protected witness with Agent Brown. Rated R for some sexual content.


Chapter One: High School Tactics  
  
"Draw."  
  
Bree looked up from her notepad to stare blankly at her friend, Mouse. He sat on the other side of the table with a handful of playing cards emblazoned with the game's logo, his eyes going to and fro above them like a shifty-eyed poker player. Bree giggled and picked up her own hand of cards.  
  
"We're not playing Go Fish, Mouse," she reminded him, going through the motions of her upkeep before pondering her next move. Mouse shrugged and casually chewed on his twenty-sided die like a child, his eyes focused on his cards.  
  
"I know we're not," Mouse replied conversationally, removing the die from his mouth and wiping it on his black shirt. Bree carefully chose her cards and called her moves.  
  
"Okay..I'm going to hit you for three points, and this creature has a plus two on both counts on it, mind you, and then I'm going to cast a life spell and regain three hit points," Bree sorted out her played cards as she spoke. Mouse groaned and slunk further down in his chair until his elbows stood straight up on the table, his hands still clutching his cards. Bree grinned at his dramatic display of mental anguish as he flipped his die around to indicate how much life he had left.  
  
"You're gonna force me to commit wizard suicide, you know this, don't you?" he asked in a pitiful tone, his voice narrowing out into a whine. Bree pretended to play a tiny violin between her thumb and forefinger while mimicking a pout. Mouse smirked playfully at her, then plunked his cards down onto the table.  
  
"This is boring," he declared, leaning back in his chair and linking his fingers behind his head. Bree rolled her eyes slightly then neatly restacked her cards in a large deck and placed them back into their box. Mouse left his cards spread out as he rocked in his seat, humming some made- on-the-spot melody to himself.  
  
"You must've forgotten your Ritalin today," Bree remarked dryly, closing her deck box and pushing it over to the side. Mouse stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth for a second then grinned charmingly.  
  
"I only wanted to show you how to play," he said airily, his eyebrows lifting up high enough to touch his hairline. "I had no intention of finishing said game. So ha." Bree gave him a look.  
  
"Sometimes I wonder why I even bother hanging out with you," she teased good-naturedly. Mouse grinned again, wider this time.  
  
"It's my dashing good looks," he said proudly. "The ladies can't resist my charm." He ran a palm over his closely-cropped hair and waggled his eyebrows at Bree, who laughed.  
  
"Suuuure we can't," she replied, dragging out the syllables playfully. Mouse winked impishly, bringing forth another chortle from his female companion. "But for all your charm and grace, my dear boy, I still have to get up early in the morning for class." Mouse poked out his lower lip in a mock mou at her words.  
  
"Awww..I have to go now? Just when it was getting interesting?" he implored, standing up and looking sweetly in Bree's direction. Bree, not fooled for a second, tossed him his light jacket and smiled wickedly.  
  
"Interesting nothing. Go on, get outta here, you crazy kid," Bree opened her dorm room door for him, standing to the side so he could pass. Mouse heaved a great sigh and slipped his coat on as he walked towards the door. He held out his arms for a hug in front of her and was blessed with a warm, tight embrace from his longtime friend.  
  
"I'll see you tomorrow at lunch, then," he said, squeezing her once more then letting go. Bree nodded, suddenly feeling very exhausted. Mouse winked at her again and disappeared through the doorway. Bree waved at him from the hall, then closed the door and locked it. Alone, she moved about the small apartment-like dorm room and tidied up, muttering to herself about Mouse's bad habit of leaving his messes out for her to clean up. Once she was satisfied with the job, she kicked her jeans off into the corner and slipped a nightshirt on.  
  
Bree pulled back the covers on her twin bed and scooted under them, lifting them to her chin slightly as she reached up to hit the overhead light switch. The room was plunged in half-darkness, the only light coming from inbetween her closed blinds to send streaks of yellowish color over the walls. Closing her eyes, she allowed the sounds of the campus falling asleep around her send her into dreams.  
  
*****  
  
The next morning dawned warmer than usual and Bree silently cursed herself for wearing her favorite hunter green hoodie sweatshirt as she hurried past the crowds to make her first class. A senior in college proved to be far more difficult than she'd previously believed; her classes appeared to have doubled in size as well as workload. Her back and arms ached from lugging so many texts, folders, and binders with her to each vaulted-ceiling auditorium-like classroom for up to eight hours a day. If she had known becoming a design major would be this difficult, she would've chosen a less-demanding profession.  
  
As she power-walked to the classroom, Bree couldn't help but notice a pair of suited men standing somewhere off the side of the playing field, their eyes hidden behind rectangular sunglasses as they methodically surveyed the landscape. In Bree's mind, they appeared to be some sort of government officials, yet she couldn't figure out why such people would be on the grounds. Perhaps someone would inform her of their purpose there in one of her classes. Satisfied with that personal assurance, Bree continued on to class undisturbed.  
  
****  
  
Later, in the crowded campus cafeteria, Bree found Mouse sitting at their usual table in the corner, reading a book on computer programming while shoving a huge sandwich in his mouth. Bree had to smile; everything he did was amusing to observe. Often, it had been Mouse's antics that had cheered her in the past and she appreciated his friendship every day even if she never really showed it in a method he would've liked.  
  
Oh, Bree knew Mouse liked her. However, being so far from her hometown, friends, and family, Bree had informed him that she needed a friend more than a boyfriend now and he had surprisingly agreed to this. That had been about two years ago -- since then, the two had become inseperable and Bree hated to think of her life without his bouyant personality to brighten her day.  
  
As she approached the table, Bree whipped a hand out and rubbed Mouse's head vigorously. Mouse yelped and dropped his book, darting around to see who was assulting his head. Bree grinned at him and sat down, plopping her armload of books beside Mouse's tray.  
  
"Afternoon," she greeted cheerfully, folding her arms in front of her and leaning forward slightly. "What's on the menu?" She cocked her chin in the direction of his book.  
  
"This?" Mouse turned the book over so the cover was exposed. "I though it'd be a good idea to learn Linux. You can never know too many computer systems in a single lifetime," he informed her sagely, flipping the book open again and skimming to find his place. Bree quirked an eyebrow and shrugged to herself. Computers were all but Greek to her; her own machine in her room had been put together from scratch by Mouse, a favor she had yet to pay him back for. He had patiently walked her through it and had even supplied her with the latest graphics programs. He had told her that a lot of graphics companies were looking for those familiar with editing software and had made it a point to give her quick tutorials in each one. To Bree, Mouse was an endless resource, one that she would hate to lose.  
  
A movement in the rear of the bustling cafeteria drew her attention and she started slightly to see the same pair of suited men in the room. She furrowed her brow in confusion. Whoever these men were was obviously of great importance, yet she still couldn't imagine a simple college being of any government use. Sure, she had known a lot of NARCs, but these guys were openly dressed like private detectives and did next to nothing to hide their agenda. If she squinted, she could see coilwire earpieces on the left side of their heads that they would touch and appear to be listening for something. What, she couldn't guess.  
  
Nudging her studious companion, Bree pointed as subtly as she could to the men. "Mouse, do you have any idea who those guys are?"  
  
Mouse looked up, his expression mimicking her own. "No, I have no clue who they are. How long have they been standing there?"  
  
Bree shrugged. "I'm not sure. I saw them this morning on my way to my first class. They seemed to be looking for something or someone. You don't think someone's going to be arrested, do you?"  
  
Mouse snorted slightly, then lowered his gaze back to his book. "I doubt it. Nothing interesting ever happens in my life." He punctuated his statement with a sharp turn of a page. Bree continued to watch the men, her mind turning over multiple reasons to their presence. She took this time to carefully take in their individual appearences.  
  
They varied little in height difference, yet one appeared to have a slighter build than the other. He had very feminine features, far moreso than any man Bree had ever seen before, and appeared lost in his suit, as if he'd been trying on his grandfather's and didn't care if it was loose or not. The other was very imposing and looked like a stereotypical hitman from the Mafia. Both had carefully groomed auburn hair and the same rectangular sunglasses that they had been wearing outside earlier. She got a mixed feeling from them. She had been brought up to trust anyone who looked like a law officer, yet something about these men put her off. The sensation was neither negative or positive; it was just simply there.  
  
Suddenly deciding she needed a drink from the soda machine (a mere foot from the men), Bree quietly excused herself and rose to walk across the room. Mouse paid her no mind and continued to read. As Bree drew closer to the suited men, she felt a shiver dart up her spine when they turned their heads in unison to watch her. She could feel their burning stares from behind their dark sunglasses and blushed self-consciously. Once she reached the soda machine, she fumbled in her jeans pocket for change and cursed silently to herself when the imitation silver coins clinked to the floor when she withdrew her hand.  
  
As she stooped to retrieve them, she noticed a masculine hand appear in her line of sight, a quarter held firmly between a slender thumb and forefinger. She carefully lifted herself up and swallowed nervously at the smaller of the suited men. He followed her movements perfectly, his hand still extended with the quarter pinched between his fingers.  
  
"You dropped this," he said, his voice surprisingly soft and light. The sound reminded Bree of windchimes on a summer afternoon, benign and soothing. Mouthing a weak 'thank you', Bree took the offered coin from his hand, breathing in sharply when their skin came into contact. She hadn't felt this way about an older man since her high school math teacher!  
  
"You're welcome," he said, cocked his head to the left ever so slightly, then returned to his previous post beside his taller companion. The other stared at her mechanically for a split-second, then returned his attentions to the rest of the room. Bree clutched the quarter in her palm, surprised to find it still warm from his hand. It wasn't until she heard Mouse's voice at her ear that she realized she'd be standing like a dummy for many minutes, staring into space and relishing the encounter with the suited man.  
  
"Earth to Bree! This is NASA Headquarters calling a Miss Gabriella Swanson!" Mouse was saying, knocking on the side of her head lightly with a knuckle. Bree snapped to attention immediately and stared wide-eyed at her best friend.  
  
"Huh?" she stammered, her voice higher than usual. "Something wrong, Mouse?"  
  
Mouse lifted an eyebrow at her, his hip positioned in a cocky manner as he regarded her curiously. "I was about to ask you the same," he said, glancing up and down her stiff form. "You okay?"  
  
Bree did a small doubletake at his words, then nodded quickly. "Yeah. Sure, I'm cool. Everything's just fine." Her voice sounded foreign in her ears for a moment. Clearing her throat, she pocketed the quarter and brushed her hands over her bound hair. "Yeah. I'm fine. I just got a little spaced out for a second there."  
  
"You're telling me. One would think you were trying to be an astronaut instead of a graphics designer," Mouse quipped, crouching down to scoop up the change she'd ignored and handing it back to her. "I'm going to assume this assortment of coinage is yours." Bree nodded, still mildly disoriented, and unconsciously put the leftover change in the opposite pocket from where the quarter was.  
  
"What time is it?" she asked, finally coming to her complete senses. Mouse rolled up his shirtsleeve and read his wristwatch.  
  
"Nearly three. Isn't your illustration class at three-fifteen?"  
  
Bree slapped her forehead and scolded herself for behaving like a mindless teenybopper and hurried back to their table for her books. Mouse waited for her by the soda machine, completely oblivious to the suited men a foot from him. Bree returned, suffering a bruised knee from running into a carelessly pushed out chair and hobbling slightly. Mouse took her books from her and supported her as she regained her balance.  
  
"You have all the grace of a water buffoloe when you're rushed, you know that?" Mouse joked as they walked out of the cafeteria. Bree smirked at him half-heartedly. Mouse began rambling on about his most recent programming endeavor, words which fell on Bree's very deaf ears. She dared to glance behind her at the rapidly vanishing entrance to the cafeteria. Dimly, she could make out the man's figure and she smiled shyly. Government official or not, he sure was cute.  
  
*****  
  
The pen had been poised above the blank page for a half-hour now. Bree sat at her desk, eyes vacant, schoolbooks open and sketchpad at the ready, yet her mind was miles away. It had been two days since what she'd come to call the Money Exchange and still his visage (what she could see of it; often she wondered the color of his eyes) and soft, melodious voice haunted her thoughts. She had seen them four more times since then and had blushed every single time. She could tell Mouse was growing concerned; she could see it in his eyes everytime he looked at her. She could feel a twinge of envy from him as well, a fact that made her almost ashamed to show outside interest in another guy.  
  
Infatuation is a tricky thing. It reaches out, grabs you by the throat and won't let go until it suffocates you to the point of emotional asphyixation. Bree could feel its pull on her neck as much as a physical thing and she knew it was a horrible distraction from her studies. Yet, she couldn't deny it, either. The only option was to go with it, to allow it freedom so her mind could be mostly free for other, more demanding projects.  
  
Like homework.  
  
Bree sighed, her mental replay of the event coming to a halt as reality intervened. Glancing at the clock, she noticed it was close to one in the morning. She sighed in defeat and closed her books dejectedly. She mentally thanked whatever higher beings existed that her first class wasn't until noon and such a late bedtime was excusable. Pushing away from the desk, Bree stood, turned a few feet, and flopped onto her bed, landing with a huff. She reached up and clutched her pillows like a child, sighing long into the pillowcase. Blissfully (or was it?) her dreams had been devoid of the mysterious suited man, yet her nights were restless ones. Thankfully, she was so exhausted tonight that sleep came sooner than she realized as her eyes drifted closed and she dropped into a deep sleep then and there.  
  
*****  
  
Elsewhere on the campus grounds, Agents Brown and Jones stood vigil under a towering oak by the courtyard. Jones was quietly conversing with the Mainframe while Brown observed the area with a careful eye. They had been instructed to keep an eye out for a new target -- their sources had directed them to the tiny college campus and here they had remained for almost a week straight.  
  
Jones finished his report and looked to Brown. "He is close," he informed him, referring to the seeker of the current target. Brown nodded stiffly.  
  
"Do they know when he will strike?" Brown asked, turning his gaze up to his taller companion's impassive face. Jones shook his head.  
  
"No. We're to remain here until he does. Smith is especially eager to fulfill this mission -- he has wanted Morpheus for a very long time."  
  
"Affirmative," Brown agreed mechanically. He fell silent for a moment, then averted his eyes. "Is the girl the target?"  
  
"What girl?"  
  
"The one in the cafeteria."  
  
"There were many females in the eatery, Brown. Please clarify."  
  
"The one I interacted with, by the beverage dispenser," Brown explained, keeping his eyes from Jones' hard gaze. Jones made a surprisingly human noise of irritation.  
  
"It doesn't matter who the target is; we need to focus on apprehending Morpheus," Jones reminded him firmly. Brown lowered his head slightly, then nodded.  
  
"Agreed."  
  
*****  
  
Chapter Two: Search and Rescue  
  
"They're beginning to creep me out," Mouse remarked in an annoyed tone as he and Bree walked the halls of the main building together. He was referring to the suited men who had seemed to be dogging his every move.  
  
"They have been fairly obvious around you," Bree agreed reluctantly. Secretly, she enjoyed the extra time to oogle the handsome official despite the off-putting aura they reflected on Mouse. "And you have no idea why they would be following you around?"  
  
"No, I've told you this already," Mouse replied, even more annoyed at her questions. His life had taken an extreme U-turn in the past two weeks, so extreme he was unable to tell Bree about it. He hated not being able to spill all of the amazing revelations he'd been experiencing, yet his informatant had stressed secrecy and caution with those who were 'unaware'. He wanted to make Bree aware, desperately so, but she had become disturbingly distant as of late. He placed the blame on the shoulders of the shorter suited man, the one she'd gone ga-ga over more than two weeks ago.  
  
"There has to be a reason," Bree insisted, pulling Mouse to a halt and spinning him so he looked at her. Her brown eyes were full of determination and Mouse knew there was little he could do to sway her once she'd made up her mind about something. Darting a glance at the men, Mouse took Bree's arm and led her to an empty computer lab and closed the door firmly behind them.  
  
Bree watched, confused, as Mouse went about the room shutting windows, blinds, and any other exits to the hall. Satisfied with the small degree of privacy he'd secured, Mouse turned to Bree and placed his hands on her shoulders firmly.  
  
"Bree," he began slowly, hesitantly, "I have something to tell you. Now, you may not understand it, but I have to tell someone."  
  
Bree gazed at him with doe-wide eyes, somewhat afraid of what he was about to reveal to her. Mouse took a deep breath, opened his mouth to speak, when a sudden burst of gunfire ripped the back of the front door to ribbons. Screaming in terror, Bree dove to the ground and covered her head with her arms. Mouse was over her, shielding her with his own body and looking around frantically. Screams of frightened students could be heard in the hall as more gunfire blasted the exterior of the room.  
  
"What the hell is going on!?" Bree cried over the noise. Mouse could only shake his head in disbelief, unable to comprehend that this was happening and it was happening now. He knew Morpheus had intended on sending some of his people to find him, but he had no idea they would be opening fire in his college. Loud voices collided outside, a commanding feminine voice called out orders and was answered by a pair of other voices in unison.  
  
"Get him out now!" the woman's voice cried. The sound of the window's glass smashing and showering the floor made Bree yelp again and bury her face in Mouse's shoulder. A tall woman in dressed entirely in black vinyl appeared among the shattered glass and hurried over to the cowering young adults.  
  
"Are you all right?" she asked, lifting Mouse by the upper arm slightly and looking into his face. Her eyes were hidden by wide-rimmed sunglasses and her raven black hair was slicked over her head. She appeared a superheroine in Bree's mind, yet she had trouble believing that the good guys were wearing all black. Mouse responded to the strange woman as if he'd known her for years.  
  
"Yeah, we're fine, but what the hell is going on out there?"  
  
"Agents," she replied, rising and sidestepping to the window to peer outside. "Apparently, they've been scoping out your school. They attacked us just as we pulled up."  
  
"Agents?" Mouse repeated incredulously. "Shit, that's heavy!" The woman cast him an ironic smile.  
  
"In a sense," she agreed lightly. The continuing sound of rapid gunfire filled the room and Bree felt herself beginning to go into a form of shock. Mouse was doing little to explain things to her and she was sure Superwoman over there wasn't about to, either. Behind the shock came a deepening sense of betrayl and she choked on a sob of disbelief that Mouse would be involved in these....these..terrorists.  
  
Darting to her feet, Bree hurried to the classroom's entrance and ripped the remainder of the door from its hinges. The noise made Mouse turn.  
  
"Bree! No, stop!" he screamed, making ready to go after her when the woman restrained him.  
  
"Leave her. She's as good as dead now," she said firmly, tightening her grip on his arm. "We have to get to Morpheus before the Agents follow our trail. Come on. Come ON!" She pulled hard on Mouse's arm and practically threw him out of the broken window before following herself. Together, they ran away from the gunfire and towards the parking lot.  
  
Back in the school building, Bree was frantically trying to find an exit that hadn't been blown to bits or otherwise blemished by bullets. Dozens of terrified students were fleeing for their lives as the gunfight continued to escalate outside. As she darted past a window, the suited man she admired caught her eye and she froze. He was standing his ground with two other suited men and was firing expertly at a pair of leather-clad people. Recalling her childhood lessons of sticking with the cops, Bree clamored out of the window and foolishly ran headlong into the fray.  
  
On the field, Brown and Jones had been joined by their superior, Agent Smith, and were attempting to detain the fleeing rebels. Trinity had already escaped with the boy, Mouse, and was probably well on the way towards Morpheus' location.  
  
Snarling, Smith tossed his empty Desert Eagle to the ground and shifted bodies to be closer to his prey. Jones did likewise, leaving the bullet-addled body of a teacher behind. Brown made to do the same when he saw Bree running towards him. Newly-fledged emotion overrode logic and he turned to her, catching her when she crashed into him. She clutched at him like a thing possessed, babbling nonsense into his suit jacket. Unsure of how to react, Brown let her hold onto him for support and didn't even attempt to make sense of her jumbled words.  
  
Finally, Bree blew out a panicked breath and spoke as clearly as her nerves would allow, "Mouse..Mouse is gone, where is he?!" She gripped Brown's jacket lapels in an iron grip of desperation, her chestnut eyes pleading with his mechanical ones for an answer. Tears peppered her flushed cheeks and more were streaming from her eyes. Brown could only stare down at her, his mind desperately acessing what he believed were the proper dialogue response files.  
  
"He was taken," he told her. Bree's face contorted as she bowed her head against his chest again. Her shoulders shook with each panicked sob. Through their connection, Smith informed Brown that they had narrowly missed apperhending Morpheus and his rebels and ordered him to return to their headquarters.  
  
[...I cannot comply. I am in a situation that I cannot find a way out of...] Brown transmitted.  
  
[..Kill it, then!...] was Smith's enraged reply. Brown balked at his superior's icy tone. Smith had begun developing more human responses than his collegues and often times, it shocked Brown to hear him speak so emotionally. Brown, himself, had begun a similar transformation, but didn't greet it with the same hostility Smith did. To Brown, it was all part and partial to his initial programming and accepted it as it came to him. However, the fledgling emotions had ill-equipped him to handle a sobbing human female.  
  
Drawing on his observations of human social interaction, Brown lifted an unsteady hand and clamped it down on Bree's shoulder in what he believed was a comforting gesture. However, due to his naivete, the grip was stronger than he'd intended and Bree screeched at the sudden onslaught of pain and collapsed to the ground, clutching at the offending shoulder.  
  
"What the fuck..?" she breathed, her voice a blend of tearful shock and enraged annoyance. Brown mentally corrected the degree of force required for such an action and knelt down before her. He reached out to try again, but Bree scooted backwards, looking at him like he'd snap her in two if he touched her again.  
  
"I am sorry if that hurt you," Brown apologized carefully. "I don't know.." He quickly sought out the correct term: "My own strength."  
  
"No kidding...." Bree replied grumpily, briefing forgetting about her missing friend and the gunfight that had torn up her college, as well as a half a dozen students and facualty members. Brown offered his hand again and this time, Bree accepted with her free one and allowed him to pull her to her feet. Cradling her sore shoulder, she looked up at him. "Can you help me find my friend?"  
  
Brown blinked at her from behind his sunglasses. He felt torn, yet couldn't explain why. Tilting his head thoughtfully, he sent a transmission to Smith and Jones.  
  
[...Permission to bring target's female companion to headquarters..]  
  
[..Requesting reason for inquiry..] came Jones' reply.  
  
[..Female may have information on the Resistance..] Brown replied.  
  
[.....Permission granted..] Smith replied somewhat grouchily. His ire had been invoked, of that Brown was certain. He ended the transmission and returned his gaze to Bree's.  
  
"Yes, my collegues and I will assist you in locating your friend," Brown told her, attempting a smile. Bree sighed in relief and murmured her thanks. Brown nodded and requested that she follow him to his vehicle.  
  
His car turned out to be a stereotypical government-issued black towncar and Bree briefly believed herself in a detective movie or some lame guy flick like Die Hard or some other such blow 'em up, kill 'em all film. Brown opened the passenger side door for her before sliding into the driver's seat. Bree used her good hand to buckle herself in and watched Brown circle the rear of the car and enter from the other side. He ignored his seatbelt and started the car.  
  
"Shouldn't you buckle up?" Bree asked, a little shocked than an officer of the law was neglecting something so simple. Brown glanced at her, confused. At her expectant stare, he fastened the belt with a sharp click and pulled out of the parking space with such fluid grace, Bree could hardly believe they were in a car. It felt like floating. Or at least as though the car itself has superior shocks.  
  
As they drove towards the Agents' headquarters, Bree observed Brown's expressionless face curiously. She could see more of his eyes from the side and noted that they were a watery blue. She smiled a little. She rather liked blue eyes. His hands, upon closer inspection, were smooth and flawless; the fingers were long and elegant, like a pianist's. She observed how they gripped the black leather steering wheel and blushed when a rather naughty thought passed through her mind. You know what they say about strong hands, she meekly told herself, ducking her head to hide her embarassed smile. Unfortunately, with her eyes at this level, she was practically forced to openly stare at his crotch. Squeaking behind her hand, Bree quickly averted her eyes and looked out the window, hoping that the mundane sights would cleanse her mind of dirty, dirty thoughts.  
  
"So.." she began by way of conversation. Brown didn't respond. "What's your name?"  
  
"Brown."  
  
"Okay, what's your first name?"  
  
"Agent."  
  
Bree's eyebrow rose, befuddled by his response. "Your first name is agent?" she asked, disbelief dripping from her voice. "Tell me you're joking."  
  
"I'm joking," came the obedient reply. Bree's confusion mounted. His voice was completely devoid of any humor, of any emotion, really.  
  
"Are you some kind of secret service agent, then?" she prompted. Brown hesitated to answer, his mind defining the term 'secret service agent' briefly. It appeared to describe someone involved in law enforcement that remained in the proverbial background and was only called in for special operations. Brown decided it was the closest human definition and nodded.  
  
"So those strange people in black were terrorists?"  
  
"In a sense," Brown said quietly, turning into the parking garage of a large building. Bree realized they had arrived to their destination and sighed inwardly. She was rather enjoying their, albeit clipped and monosyllablic, conversation. Brown pulled into an empty space near the elevator and exited the car. He opened Bree's door for her with all the expertise of a professional chauffer. She slid out carefully, allowing him to assist her, then followed him to the elevator.  
  
As they rode upwards from the garage, Brown let the other two know that he had arrived, explaining what Bree believed them to be and how to react accordingly. Smith's clipped reply was typical of him; Jones simply acknowledged the new input, as was his wont. Beside him, Bree inched a little bit closer to him and took an experimental sniff of the air around him. Naturally, the lingering scent of hot gunmetal and gunpowder dominated the baser scent, encouraging Bree to move as close as she dared. She sidestepped till she was a bit behind him and leaned forward to sniff at his suit jacket. The faint scent of her perfume wafted up to her nostrils, coupled with a scent she couldn't quite identify. The closest she could think of was the smell of new VHS film. A videotape store. That's what it smelled like. Perturbed, Bree resumed her place at his side and waited for the elevator to stop.  
  
Almost as soon as she'd moved away from him, the doors slid open and both were met with the sour-looking Smith and Jones. Smith looked down his nose at Bree, icy blue eyes peering over the dark lenses of his sunglasses. A slight sneer curled his upperlip and he turned his attention towards Brown.  
  
"Is this the woman you requested to bring?" he asked in a voice that reminded Bree of old 50s newscaster's. Brown nodded stiffly once. The sneer returned to Smith's face, this time exposing a bit more of his teeth. Bree immediately decided she didn't like this man. Jones had barely glanced in her direction.  
  
"Very well, then," Smith acquiescenced and turned to head down the long corridor with Jones in tow. Brown gestured for Bree to step out of the elevator, which had strangely remained opened without Brown having pushed the Hold button. Ignoring this tiny fact, Bree cautiously trailed after the taller Agents, her hands gripping the other tightly. The feel of Brown's far more gentle touch on her good shoulder coerced her into moving with a bit more confidence.  
  
Soon, she found herself in a small, very barebones room with a metal desk in the center of the floor and a pair of swivel chairs, also metal, and a small survellience camera could be seen in the far upper righthand corner of the ceiling. Smith had already seated himself on one side of the table and appeared to be waiting for her to take the free chair opposite his. Bree glanced up at Brown, who nodded, and gently pushed her in the direction of the desk. Bree lowered herself into the chair carefully, her eyes reluctantly meeting Smith's hidden gaze.  
  
With a great sigh of what Bree percieved as patronizing, Smith removed his sunglasses, folded them, and slipped them into an interior pocket of his jacket. His eyes were cold, far more cold than any eyes Bree could believe existed. She shrank back in the chair uneasily, shifting her legs till her knees met defensively, and her hands in her lap. Smith regarded her a moment before licking his bottom lip in a contemplative manner and placed his hands on the tabletop.  
  
"To begin, I should like to...apologize for any harm your fellow students and faculty members may have suffered," he began haltingly in that deadpan voice of his. "It was not our intention to..disrupt the school in our attempt to apprehend the terrorists."  
  
"It's cool," Bree replied tightly, sweat trickling down her forehead. Her knees began to grind together uncomfortably and she suddenly wished she had ignored her childhood teachings and had remained away from the authorities. Behind her, Brown had impulsively moved towards her, hovering over her like a protective mother hawk. Comforted by his closeness, Bree cleared her throat.  
  
"What's going to happen to me now?"  
  
Smith mulled over her question, one arched eyebrow lifting at the very corner in a manner Bree thought humanly impossible. "It's possible that we can place you in a secure area where the terrorists cannot find you."  
  
"You mean like a witness protection program?"  
  
Smith's lips twitched. "Yes, like that."  
  
"What about my family? Aren't they allowed to know what's happened to me?"  
  
"They will be notified but denied access to your location."  
  
Bree sighed and looked down at her wringing hands sadly. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes. Heaving a deep, unsteady breath, she raised her head and looked Smith in the face again. "Okay. When do I leave?"  
  
Smith smiled in a distinctly unfriendly way and replied, "Immediately."  
  
*****  
  
Chapter Three: For Your Protection  
  
The long car ride to Bree's new 'house' was done in silence. The tension in the air was so thick, Bree could've sliced at it with a knife and still come upon five more layers. The only comfort she had was Brown, who had chosen to sit beside her and help her adjust to her new life. Smith had reluctantly permitted Brown to do so, sternly reminding him what their true objective was in the process. Jones had virtually no opinion on the subject and kept his mind focused on steering the sleek black towncar over the highways and byways of the city.  
  
Bree had dozed off against the door an hour into the trip so the three Agents took this time to discuss their battle plans. Smith was intensely irritated at having failed in their capture of Morpheus and the other rebels and didn't seem too keen on babysitting the human female. Jones pointed out to him that it was possible that the newly-awakened rebel might come back to look for his friend and that they should use it their advantage when possible. This had tempered Smith somewhat.  
  
"The female has displayed anatomical signs of muscle relaxation in my presence," Brown had said when he requested that he remain with Bree. Smith had smirked, but had thankfully kept his snide remarks to himself after he'd permitted Brown to remain behind. After all, they were a mere thought away from each other; distance meant very little where Agents were concerned.  
  
Two hours later, Jones pulled into the driveway of a small one-level house and stopped the car. Smith remained in the passenger seat of the car while Jones and Brown unloaded Bree's belongings and brought them inside. Alerted by the lack of motion, Bree woke up and yawned.  
  
"Are we here? she asked sleepily between yawns, peering out the window with bleary eyes. Smith grunted affirmation.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Where's Brown?" she asked next, noticing that he was no longer beside her. Smith gestured with his chin towards the small house. Bree followed and gasped.  
  
"Wow...that whole house is mine?" she asked, awestruck. Smith smirked unseen and muttered a 'Yes'. "Amazing." Bree opened her door and groggily jogged up to the front of the house. The door was ajar and Bree could hear the other two men inside moving things around and basically setting everything up for her.  
  
Brown appeared from a rear room carrying a briefcase. He paused when he noticed Bree in the foyer. He lifted the black case slightly. "We must install cameras in the house in order to properly protect you," he explained. Bree blushed at the thought of a bathroom spycam.  
  
"You don't have to put any in the bathroom, do you?" she asked nervously. Brown tilted his head, puzzled.  
  
From inside the car, an exasperated Smith conveyed a message to the muddled Brown: [..Humans require special rooms in which to pass bodily waste and fluids. It is called a bathroom commonly..]  
  
Brown's head righted itself immediately at the new information. "No, we do not need one in the bathroom."  
  
Bree blew out a sigh of relief. "Good. I'm not much of an exhibitionist, anyway," she joked in an attempt to lighten the mood. The confused gesture returned. Again, Smith explained the human definition of the word. Again, Brown's head righted itself. Bree stared at him quizzically. Despite their advanced programming, some human terms escaped their databanks and Smith would often have to correct them if used improperly. Especially humor.  
  
Jones appeared in the hallway from the rear bedroom and announced that the cameras had been installed and were functioning within normal parameters. Bree made a mental note to change in the cameraless bathroom before going to bed. She turned her eyes back to Brown.  
  
"Are you staying?" she asked somewhat shyly. Brown's sensors registered an alteration to her body temperture and a quickening of her heart rate at the question. His processors defined it as the emotion 'nervousness' or 'anxiety'. Jones smirked a bit and brushed past the dumbstruck Brown to exit the house. The sound of the car door slamming in his wake snapped Brown back to pseudo-reality.  
  
In the car, Smith exchanged a look with Jones as Brown approached them and leaned over to speak into the rolled down window. "I will contact you immediately if anything occurs," he informed them. Smith nodded, disinterest already clear on his features. Jones took in the information, nodded briefly, then started the car. Smith cast a serious glare on his inferior.  
  
"Remember: Do not be swayed from your mission. This is vital to our success. It is imperative that we capture Morpheus."  
  
"Acknowledged," Brown replied. Smith flicked a hand forward, indicating that Jones could drive away. Brown watched the towncar disappear around the bend in the road before returning to the interior of the house. The professional part of his programming demanded that he remain focused on the task at hand, yet the evolving, curious section of his programming craved input from humans, in particular, Bree.  
  
Setting his soft features into the tempered expression typical of the Agents, Brown turned on his heel and stalked back inside.  
  
*****  
  
"There's food here and everything!" Bree gushed as she ran about the kitchen opening and closing cabinet doors and marveling at each new item she found. "My parents' house was never this stocked!"  
  
Brown stood in the doorway watching her stoically. He found her erractic movements fascinating to observe and processed all of her bodily responses. He was able to register excitement, eagerness, shock, awe, a bevy of emotions normally unavailable in daily observations of human interaction. She was a veritable source of input and Brown reveled in it. He had always sought out new forms of information since it was primarily Smith who would interact with humans on a direct level while Jones and Brown remained in the background as proverbial extras.  
  
Bree was at the stove testing the knobs and heat variations when Brown decided to step in and interact with her. From watching Smith, he figured conversation would be the best way to begin.  
  
"Can you cook?" he asked more conversationally than he realized. Bree looked over her shoulder at him and shrugged.  
  
"I can fry practically anything and everything. If it can be saturated in bacon grease or butter, I can do it," she replied with a flourish of a spatula. Using the same kitchen utensil, she gestured at his face. "Must you wear those indoors?" she asked, referring to his sunglasses. It took Brown a moment to understand what she meant. As abashed as a program could become, Brown slipped the sunglasses from his face and folded them before placing them down on the kitchen table.  
  
When he looked up again he saw that Bree was staring intently into his revealed eyes. He felt her pulse quicken, her temperture rise, and her heart skip two beats. "What's wrong?" he asked. Bree started, blushed, and waved her hands around dismissively.  
  
"Oh, nothing. Nothing at all," she lied. Brown picked up her body's changes as she spoke and felt his lips twitch into the barest hint of a smile. Bree saw his reaction and smiled back, albeit a bit more nervously. In an effort to change the subject, she rushed to the refridgerator and rummaged about its contents, speaking as she did so. "So, are you hungry? I can make you an omelette. Or bacon if you prefer. How about a grilled cheese sandwich?" The clinking of glass jars and glugging sounds of milk jugs being pushed about widened Brown's tentative smile.  
  
"I am not hungry, thank you," he said. Bree's head peeked out from behind the fridge door. He registered a drop in her heart rate at his refusal and felt compelled to recitfy it at once. "Unless you're having something?" he said quickly. The creases near Bree's eyes deepened, indicating that she was smiling. Her pulse relaxed to a normal rhythm.  
  
She reappeared from behind the icebox door brandishing a package of cheese, a tub of butter, a pound of bacon, and a carton of eggs. She kicked the door closed with one foot and dumped the items onto the table before Brown. She touched each product as she spoke. "Okay, so we have cheese and butter for the sandwiches, and bacon and eggs for the rest. If you'd rather have a cheese omelette, I can do that no problem, but if you'd prefer one my world-famous grilled cheese sandwiches, I can whip that right up." She impulsively cast him a coy smile and went to the bread box to fetch a loaf of wheat. Brown examined each food item as she bustled about preparing the bread and peeling apart the bacon strips.  
  
"I'll try them all," he announced. Bree's face split into a wide grin and she clapped her hands. Brown started, taken a bit aback by her response. As she busied herself preparing the food, Brown continued to observe her motions. His eyebrow lifted when he realized she was humming to herself, yet the melody was unrecognizable to him. Tapping into the Mainframe, Brown offered the sound file of her humming and made his inquiry.  
  
[..Requesting origin of auditory vocalization...]  
  
[....Ode to Joy, Ludwig von Beethoven, circa 19th Century..]  
  
Brown disconnected just in time to see a plate being slid in front of him followed by a smaller saucer with the grilled cheese sandwich on it. A can of cola was set beside the larger plate, open and foaming over the top slightly. Bree sat down on his right with her own sandwich and soda. She held out a fork and knife to him expectantly. He accepted and began cutting the eggs into small, precise squares, leaving a perfectly round yolk in the center. Bree watched him, fascinated.  
  
"Do you always eat like that?" she asked, gesturing with half of her sandwich. Brown looked down at his plate, realizing that this was his very first time tasting the simulated food of the system. Spearing an egg square, Brown brought it to his mouth and slid the fork between his lips, rolling the spongy substance around on his tongue before swallowing. The egg left a rather bland tang on the back of his tongue and he frowned down at the plate.  
  
"Something is....missing," he murmured, eyes scanning the tabletop for something. Bree followed his gaze and realized he was searching for the salt. Reaching for it on the counter behind her, Bree handed it off to him. Brown forked another egg square, sprinkled it liberally with the salt, then ate it. The sheer amount of salt he'd put onto the tiny egg square assualted his sensors and he backed up from the table, the chair legs grinding across the linoleum loudly. Bree was on her feet in a flash and holding onto his arm as he frantically swatted at his mouth as if he'd just swallowed a swarm of wasps.  
  
"Brown!" Bree cried, wishing that he had an actual name in that instant, as she shook his arm insistantly. Brown's sensors relaxed from the sudden taste attack and he calmed down slowly, his eyes twitching subtly. Bree stared at him with wide eyes, afraid he was allergic to eggs or salt. "Are you all right?" Panic heightened her voice to a shrill pitch and automatically Brown's sensors registered it as alarm, strong alarm.  
  
"I..am fine," he told her haltingly. "Please, calm yourself, I am fine."  
  
"Are you sure? Do you need something to drink? Water?" Bree asked, guiding him to the sofa in the living room and lowering him down onto the plush cushions. As Brown's programming reset itself, Bree fussed over his suit jacket, unbuttoning it and slipping it over his arms before draping it over the side of the sofa. After making sure he was all right, Bree returned to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water and a cool cloth.  
  
Brown watched her from the sofa, knowing that his true identity was in extreme danger of being revealed. If Bree ever found out what he, and the other Agents, were and why they had agreed to relocate her, their mission would become compromised and extreme measures would need to be taken. At the risk of losing his source of information, Brown was going to act as human as his programming would allow to keep her unaware of their true intentions.  
  
Bree returned and sat down beside him, one hand holding the damp cloth to his forehead while the other handed him the clear glass of water. "I guess you're not much of a salt eater," she said softly, a smile in her voice, gently dabbing at his skin and smoothing his slightly mussed hair. Her expression turned warm as she tended to him. "It's funny," she mused quietly, her eyes traveling over his face appreciatively.  
  
"What is?" Brown asked, his own voice low and curious.  
  
"I dunno.." Bree continued, gliding the soft cloth down over his cheekbone and along the underside of his jaw. "How many days has it been since I first noticed you and Jones outside in the courtyard? It feels like it's been months when it's more like a week and a half." She paused, her hand leaving his face and dropping into her lap sadly. "Then I think about Mouse. He just left with those people like it was nothing. I felt like I never knew him in that instant. He was so changed. It scared me." Her voice caught in her throat and she turned away, pressing the cloth to her lips to stifle a sob. Brown lowered his eyes in an attempt to think of how to handle this situation again. He'd forgotten how incredibly emotional human females could become. He tried to access a memory of Smith handle such a situation and came up empty. Then he remembered.  
  
Smith hated humans.  
  
He would never attempt to console any human, let alone an emotional woman. Brown was on his own.  
  
With a degree of hesitance, Brown reached out to touch her on the shoulder lightly, taking care to adjust the power of his grip so as not to harm her again. Bree started slightly at his touch and drew in a sharp breath as she felt her heart beginning to beat faster. Her pulse pounded in her ears even as she glanced over shoulder at him bashfully. A faint pink colored her fair cheeks, hiding the small peppering of amber freckles over the bridge of her nose and creating a very visually-pleasing effect in Brown's detail-oriented mind.  
  
"He was your friend?" Brown asked gently, applying a slightly firmer amount of pressure on her as he coaxed her into facing him. Bree took his subtle cue and shifted on the cushion till their legs touched at the thigh. Her brown eyes were reddened from unshed tears and she dabbed at these tears with the cloth as she nodded.  
  
"I had to leave my home to attend college," she explained, sniffling before she continued. "I was virtually friendless when I arrived. Then Mouse showed up in the cafeteria one day and actually tripped near my table, sending his lunchtray flying into mine." A small laugh escaped her throat, followed by another sniffle. "He was about as graceful as I was..am, I should say. I was always very tall and gangly, the skinny girl in class, y'know?" Brown paused, pondering if she expected him to respond. She didn't and kept talking softly, seemingly more to herself than him.  
  
"I was so awkward as a child," she continued, absently twisting the drying cloth between her fingers as she spoke. "No one liked me much because I wasn't small and pretty with a button nose and big blue eyes. No offense." She smiled apologetically at Brown, gesturing to his own eye color with her gaze. Brown twitched in response, once again unsure how to reply. "I remember liking the popular, cute boy in my grade school class. He was so perfect. Not to mention rich. He had been dealt a great hand in the beginning of life..yeah, someone really loved him up there to give him such a great existance.  
  
"But then, all of that went away when I met Mouse. He was the exact picture of everything I had been and I immediately liked him. We connected right off the bat, it was amazing." Bree smiled fondly at her memories. "He wanted more. I couldn't provide when it came down to it." Sadness colored her smile melancholy before shifting into a thoughtful frown. "Now that he's gone to who knows where I feel like I should've paid more attention to his feelings when I had the chance."  
  
"Did you care about him as he did you?"  
  
Bree shook her head. "No. I'm so very picky and as much as I loved his company, I could never think of ruining our friendship with a relationship. You'd be surprised how complicated friendships become once sex gets involved. He tried to kiss me once, in the beginning. It was so awkward. It was then that we decided that it should remain a close friendship and never go beyond that. Now I wonder if I made the right decision or not."  
  
"What is that like?" Brown inquired, leaning in closer to her until their faces were a hands' width apart. Bree flushed at the close proximity of the other and quickly averted her eyes.  
  
"What's what like?" she stammered, rubbing the back of her neck anxiously. Brown tentatively touched her lower lip with his index finger so lightly it was like a breath of air more than an actual touch. It was enough to send shivers down her spine and cause her breathing to run ragged.  
  
"Kissing," the word was a breathless whisper of innocent curiousity. Bree immediately turned six shades of red and jerked her face from his touch. Still not understanding her reactions, Brown scooted forward on the cushions and looked at her from over her shoulder. "What is it like?"  
  
Bree fumbled for an explantion. "It's...it's..well...I suspect it'd be different if it was a kiss shared by someone you loved."  
  
"And you didn't love Mouse." A statement.  
  
"Yes. I mean no, no, I didn't love Mouse. I don't love him. I love him like a brother, but it could never go beyond that."  
  
"Have you ever done it with someone you loved?"  
  
Bree stared over at him incredulously, finding it impossible to believe that a man his age had never experienced kissing, let alone an intimate relationship. "No, I haven't, actually. You haven't, either?" Disbelief was evident in her voice. Brown shook his head.  
  
"I don't love," he said without thinking of the implications such a statement could make. Bree did a doubletake. Brown immediately corrected himself. "I meant to say, I have never loved. Anyone. Before." The last two words came out slowly, carefully, and with great reluctance. Bree's eyes regarded him with sympathy.  
  
"Maybe one day we'll both get our chance," she assured him, smiling once more. Brown returned it haltingly and all too briefly. Bree thought a moment, still somewhat uneasy at having him so achingly close to her. "You've seen it done, haven't you? In movies and by people on the street?"  
  
Brown cocked his head to the right as he thought. "I must have. I know what it is by its definition, but not by example." He cast large eyes on Bree and smiled faintly again. "Will you show me?"  
  
Bree blustered. "You want me to kiss you?!" she babbled in disbelief. Pointing to herself, then pointing to him, she repeated her question a little more calmly. "You. Want me. To kiss you. Am I hearing that correctly?"  
  
"Unless there is something wrong with your audiotory senses, yes, you 'heard me correctly'," Brown replied simply. Bree whistled low and ran a hand through her messy hair, still partially bound by her usual ponytail. Curiously, Brown observed her action then stroked her hair himself, taking the time to feel each strand and texture as he passed it over her head. Bree sat frozen to the sofa, her eyes following his movements. Coming to the band that held her hair, Brown hooked his fingers around it and pulled it down the length of her hair until it came completely undone. The simplicity of the action sent Bree into a pulse-pounding panic and she waited breathlessly for the next moment to pass.  
  
Brown's ocular sensors slid over the length of her face, body, and hair as it tumbled down her shoulders in soft auburn waves. She was a very aesthetically pleasing human female despite her former implications of being an unattractive person. Brown's natural curiousity and drive to learn more about the people trapped within the Matrix caused him to look her over with a clinical yet appreciative eye, as if he were an artist appraising a piece for a gallery.  
  
"Is this bothering you?" he asked evenly as his hand left her hair and slid down the length of her arm to rest over her hand. He felt her body tremble under his palm. Swallowing against a dry throat, Bree shook her head slowly.  
  
"I don't really know what you're doing, though," she confessed softly.  
  
"I am admiring your construction," Brown replied, forgetting his need to remain human and allowing his machine side show through in his speech. Bree only smiled shakily at his choice of words.  
  
"Uhm..thank you?" she chuckled nervously. Brown's lips curled into another small smile at her humor. "What should we do now?"  
  
"I'm enjoying this activity," Brown replied, touching her face this time and traveling down the line of her jaw. Bree felt faint at the whisper- softness of his touch. What a strange transformation from a schoolgirl crush to a gunfighter to someone she'd fed her cooking to!  
  
"Shouldn't you be reporting to your co-workers?" Bree asked and immediately hating herself for the blantant change of subject. Brown drew back from her slightly, his eyes glazed over with confusion.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"It's your job..isn't it?"  
  
"I only have to report to them if something happens," Brown explained. "I remain in constant contact with them through this." He gestured to his earpiece before removing it and letting it drop to hang limply over his shirt collar. "Now I am not."  
  
Bree's brow creased in confusion, sensing more than what he had explained. "What's your real name?" she asked carefully. Brown quickly accessed a database of human male names and chose the first one that flashed in his mind.  
  
"Robert."  
  
Bree smiled, satisfied with his answer. "Robert," she repeated, sounding out the syllables over her tongue. "Yeah. You look like a Robert." Her eyes twinkled with mischief, though Brown could not ascertain their meaning. She appeared visibly pleased with the name choice and this, in turn, surprisingly, pleased the A.I.  
  
"What will we do now?" Brown asked, repeating her former inquiry. Bree took his still raised hand in hers and squeezed it gently.  
  
"I have a fantastic idea."  
  
*****  
  
Chapter Four: Disconnected  
  
Johnny 5 is ALIVE!  
  
Brown stared wide-eyed at the brightly flashing images on the television screen, his mind rapidly processing and absorbing the multitude of imput. Bree sat beside him, grinning girlishly at his very innocent reaction to the movie they were watching. On the floor, by the entertainment center sat the discarded cover of the old 1980's movie, Short Circuit. Bree hadn't been the one to choose the movie, though she had little problem with it. Upon inspection of the tape selection, Brown had chosen the whimsical movie about a malfunctioning machine who learned to live despite his circuitry and steel body. Something about his reaction reminded Bree of Pinnochio and the thought made her smile from ear to ear. She found it amazing how a grown man could have such little exposure to pop culture, even ones more than two decades old.  
  
Brown was sitting in a remarkably casual manner, legs relaxed and arms propped up on a bunch of throw pillows. Bree had taken the time between movie selections to shower and get into her pajamas and was the epitome of comfort. Brown was still in his dress shirt, suit slacks, tie, and shoes, but his earpiece still dangled from his collar and his jacket remained cast aside somewhere on the floor. His crystal eyes flickered to and fro with the rapid-moving imagery of the movie and sometimes, his mouth would twitch in a slight smile.  
  
Bree was curled up on the other end of the sofa, legs tucked under her as she hugged a pillow to her chest comfortably. She really wanted to be closer to Brown (Robert only to her), but she figured it might be better to not push anything even if he had been getting awfully close to her only hours before. He may have been comfortable with the incredibly close inspection of her features, but she still felt a shred of embarassment at being scrutinized so closely and had chosen to remain a little ways from him for the moment.  
  
A half-hour later, the movie ended and Brown had already climbed down from the sofa to find another one to watch. Bree yawned and rubbed at her eyes.  
  
"It's really late, Robert," she informed him sleepily. "I need to get to bed before I die right here and now."  
  
At her choice of words, Brown was on his feet immediately and beside her, a pair of fingers to her neck to check for her pulse. Stunned by the sudden display of rapid movement, Bree inched from his urgent grasp and accidentally tumbled to the carpet. Brown looked down at her.  
  
"You are not dying," he told her, appearing somewhat surprised. Bree sat up on the rug and giggled in the way only the severely sleep-deprived could.  
  
"No shit, Robert," she chortled, her head lolling to one side as her body prepared to rest for the night. "I'm just so very tired it feels like I'll die if I don't get to bed, like, now."  
  
"I think I understand," Brown said slowly, turning his eyes away as he pondered her words. Bree blew out a single breath and hauled herself upwards again. She wobbled past the sofa and unconsciously reached out to slide a hand over Brown's hair, mussing it.  
  
"G'night, Robert," she called from the hallway, then disappeared through the bedroom door. Brown craned his neck to look where she had gone, his hair a complete reversal of its normally coiffed appearence. His mind processed the day's worth of information, carefully cataloging each individual emotion, phrase, and expression in its proper place. He'd been right in his former assessment of her; she was indeed a wealth of human emotion, a prime target for understanding what made a person a person.  
  
Brown leaned back against the sofa cushions, thinking. As a machine imitating a human, he wondered if he should put on the appearence of a recently-awakened person. In other words, he felt the need to make himself look like he'd just rolled out of bed. The problem was, he wasn't sure what that looked or acted like. Slipping his earpiece back in, he contacted the Mainframe's datafiles on human behavior and spent the remainder of the night researching.  
  
*****  
  
When Bree rolled out of bed the next morning, she started to hear the distinct sound of bacon being fryed in the kitchen. The scent of still- brewing coffee was in the air coupled with the aroma of toast and...ham? Puzzled, Bree found her housecoat and headed for the kitchen, wrapping the warm flannel cover around her as she went. She heard a masculine voice humming 'Ode to Joy' followed by the audible sound of a spatula scraping against a frying pan.  
  
As she rounded a corner, the sight of Brown standing at the stove clad only in a pair of loose-fitting sleep pants made Bree grip the back of a chair. Brown stopped whistling and turned to look over at her.  
  
Bree stared open-mouthed at him. "I...I'm sorry, uhm...oh god.." Her face turned a bright red and she turned away to bite her knuckle in an effort to keep from squealing openly.  
  
As observant as ever, Brown studied her response, then looked down at himself. The files and videos he'd spent the night downloading and viewing had shown him what was considered the modern morning image of the human male: Shirtless and doing something for 'his woman'. Perhaps he'd viewed the wrong files? He briefly considered replacing his suit as he usually did when Bree suddenly shrieked and ran towards him, hands waving wildly.  
  
"It's burning!" she cried, grabbing a towel and slapping at the tiny bonfire at Brown's elbow. Apparently, the dishtowel he'd placed on the stove had caught fire while his back was turned. Brown stepped aside from the fire, his programming informing it wasn't real and watched Bree stamp it out with the towel. Black smoke filled the room and curled along the ceiling. Coughing, Bree hurried to the backdoor and opened it, fanning some of the smoke outside.  
  
"I wasn't paying attention," Brown apologized simply. Bree coughed again, still waving her arm towards the doorway.  
  
"Obviously," she wheezed.  
  
"You are suffering respiratory distress," Brown observed, moving to stand beside her and guide her from the doorway. "You shouldn't be in this room." He led her into the living room and bade her to sit on the sofa while he cleared the kitchen of smoke. Bree had been too distracted to catch his very clinical observation of her coughing and focused on getting her breathing in order. Brown returned to the smoky kitchen, surveyed the damage to the stovetop, then looked up at the smoke. Something behind his eyes shifted and soon, the kitchen was back to normal.  
  
Bree was resting against the arm of the sofa when Brown returned to her bearing a plate of bacon and toast with a slice of hamsteak. Lowering it to her chin level, he waited for her to accept it before handing off the cutlery in his other hand. Bree accepted both offerings and watched him as he rounded the sofa and sat down across from her.  
  
"Didn't know you could cook," she muttered, setting the plate in her lap to start cutting up the hamsteak. Brown cocked his head.  
  
"I can do many things," he informed her. Bree ducked her head to hide her smile. Many things, indeed, she thought deviously. Many things included setting the kitchen on fire. Remembering that, Bree asked,  
  
"What happened with the fire?"  
  
"You put it out. I cleaned up," Brown replied. Bree smiled sheepishly.  
  
"Right," she murmured, hiding a giggle. Looking up again, she realized that the house was smokefree. "You were able to clear out the smoke?" she asked, puzzled. Brown nodded.  
  
"Yes, it was simple. A thought, a gesture, and the kitchen was right again," Brown replied without thinking. Bree blinked, her mouth closed around her fork loosely. Brown's circuits switched as he realized what he'd just said might've given his true self away. He really needed to adjust that. "I mean, I opened the windows and turned the fan on." As he said 'fan', he tweaked the Matrix so that the ceiling fan was, indeed, spinning and the windows above the sink shifted without a sound, their glass panels vanishing and the wind blowing through the house suddenly.  
  
"Oh. Okay, then," Bree replied slowly. "I'm sorry, Robert." She placed the plate down on the coffee table and pressed a hand to her forehead. "I'm not even sure why I'm here. I have no idea what's going on. You're acting strange and...and.." Her voice trailed away as she noticed his wire hanging from his shoulder, seemingly attached to nothing. Pointing at it with a shaky finger, she asked in a tight whisper, "How are you still wearing that?"  
  
Brown touched the wire where it was attached to the base of his neck and frowned. In his haste to appear human, he'd completely forgotten to mask the coiled clear wire that enabled him to communicate with Smith and Jones. Figuring it was better to act upon it now, Brown gripped the base of the wire firmly, braced himself, and yanked it from its port. Something akin to dead air sounded in his mind briefly as his connection was severed from the Mainframe.  
  
Holding out the limp wire in his hand, he presented it to her with a forced, false-sounding chuckle. "It must've gotten stuck to my skin," he lied, feeling what could only be described as sadness at having performed such an atrocious act against his programming. Removing his connection from the Mainframe was grounds for immediate deletion. He was certain Smith and Jones had felt it and were preparing to mobilize to discover the reasons behind it.  
  
Bree carefully took it from his open palm and turned it over in her hands. "Odd device..doesn't even look like it has a base port," she observed, lifting up the end and looking at the silver-capped plug. Brown didn't seem to be listening to her, his normally focused eyes surprisingly distant and bleak. Bree raised her head to look over at him, her brow furrowing as she took notice of his distant expression. "Robert?"  
  
Brown lifted his liquid-blue eyes up and stared at her expectantly. "Yes."  
  
"Are you all right? You look a little sad. Did I say something?"  
  
"No. I'm fine."  
  
"You don't look fine," Bree insisted, placing the earpiece on the table and scooting forward till they were knee to knee. "Are you sick?" She pressed a hand to his forehead, making a noise of confusion when she felt nothing amiss, then allowed her hand to drop back into her lap. "You don't feel hot. Did you sleep?"  
  
"No."  
  
"That's it, then. You should go to sleep. It's not healthy to stay awake for a long time," Bree said, taking his arm and pulling him up from the sofa. Brown permitted her to do so and followed her silently as she led him to the bedroom. The bed was still rumpled from her having slept in it; Brown observed the folds of the blankets mechanically, his eyes still vacant and dim. Bree had him stand by the doorway as she pulled the covers down and patted the soft mattress.  
  
"C'mon. Lie down and take a nap. I promise you'll feel better when you wake up," she encouraged warmly. Not wanting to cause her any more confusion than he already had, Brown obliged to her request and laid down where she'd indicated. Bree pulled the blankets up over his legs and tucked them closer to his shoulders like a mother putting her child to bed.  
  
"There. You sleep. I'll clean the house to pass the time. If your collegues call, I'll get you, okay?"  
  
"Thank you," Brown replied, lying very still on the bed, arms firmly at his sides under the blankets and toes pointed upwards towards the ceiling. His position resembled a mannequin lying in a display bed, stiff and impersonal. And incredibly inhuman. Bree took no notice of this and left the bedroom, closing the door behind herself softly. Alone in the room, Brown lay thinking, wondering how long it'd be before Smith and Jones came crashing through the front door in their haste to find out what had happened to their teammate. Without Brown's connection to them and the Mainframe, it was impossible for the other two to know if Mouse or any of the other resistance members were attempting to contact Bree. Brown closed his eyes. He deserved to be deleted for such a brash and illogical act. Smith would be intensely disappointed once he found out. It wouldn't be long now, Brown knew, and decided to wait with the infinite patience endowed on his kind.  
  
*****  
  
The doorbell rang an hour later, dragging Bree's mind from the book she'd been reading in the kitchen. Through the thinly-veiled window in the front door she could make out the imposing shapes of the other Agents and immediately rushed to answer it. The doorknob turned before her hand could come within an inch of it as Smith forced it open and rudely brushed past her, leaving Jones to detain her as his superior purposefully sought out the delinquent Brown.  
  
"What's going on? Is everything all right?" Bree asked, alarmed. Jones didn't reply, his hands clasped almost painfully over her shoulders. The sound of the bedroom door being kicked in made her yelp and jump under Jones' grip. "What is it?! Dammit, talk to me!" she insisted angrily, struggling against the behemoth of an Agent. Impassively, Jones told her to stay still and be quiet.  
  
Smith stood atop the fallen wooden door, glaring down at the prone Brown. "What the hell is going on?!" he barked, newly-fledged emotions raging out of control. Brown moved to a sitting positon, the covers sliding down his form to reveal he'd changed into his suit once again.  
  
"The female saw my wire," Brown explained, his eyes now veiled by his dark sunglasses. "I had to act immediately to avoid exposure."  
  
"How did she see it to begin with?" Smith asked. Brown looked down briefly.  
  
"I was in a state that allowed her to see my torso uncovered," he replied quietly. Smith's eyes grew large behind his sunglasses. Before his superior could explode in another fit of rage, Brown hastened to explain his reasons for being shirtless. "I believed that if I was to behave as a human male that I would be able to better gain her trust and limit her inquiries into our mission."  
  
"And being exposed was the best way you could think of?" Smith snarled, his cold eyes narrowing.  
  
"I had spent the night studying human male behaviorial patterns," Brown continued, unaffected by Smith's tone of voice. "These files included terminology, dress, and habits. It was stated that human males commonly walk around half-naked in the mornings. I did as the files indicated."  
  
Smith was holding his forehead by this time, oblivious to the humanness of the action. "You neglected to disguise your wire during this study?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Smith smirked darkly. "Where is your wire now?"  
  
"In the living space."  
  
Smith turned around and walked down the hallway slowly, his body tense as he swooped down with a hand to retrieve the cast-aside coil of wire from the coffee table. Bree was glaring at him as he passed.  
  
"Will you at least tell me what the hell is going on?" she asked impatiently. Smith cast her a contemptuous glare before returning to the rear bedroom. Ordering Brown to turn and expose a portion of his shoulders and neck, Smith placed the plug of the wire to the former port, manipulating the Matrix to replace it in its former position. The sound of static filled Brown's mind before clearing. He turned again, slipping the tiny speaker in his ear as he did so.  
  
"Never," Smith began tightly, "remove your wire again. If you insist on behaving like a human, find another way to do it that will not jeopordize our mission. Is this understood?"  
  
"Affirmative."  
  
Smith nodded, only partially convinced and turned to leave. He flicked a hand at Jones, who released the irritated Bree and followed his superior outside again. Brown appeared at the front of the hall, adjusting his earpiece as he watched his companions drive away. Bree spun around to face Brown.  
  
"What the fuck was all of that about?!" she asked hotly, gesturing towards the door. Brown tugged on the hem of his jacket, straightening it, as he spoke.  
  
"Nothing you need to be concerned about," he assured her. "Smith is a very physical...man," his tongue tripped over the word, knowing Smith would hate him for referring to him as such, "He was upset that I had forgotten to replace my wire."  
  
"That whole display was because you had forgotten to put your earpiece back in?" Bree asked, incredulous. "He didn't have to kick in the door! Now what'll we do about it? Geez, you government types are whacky!" Huffing, Bree pushed past him, snatched up her book from the kitchen table, and stomped to the bathroom. Slamming the door behind her and locking it, she ran a bath, leaving Brown to ponder on another method of behaving convincingly.  
  
*****  
  
Chapter Five: Reprogramming  
  
Brown sat on the sofa, stockstill, and communicating with the Mainframe on a closed connection.  
  
[..Unit 666B requesting base reprogramming...]  
  
[..Reason for request....]  
  
[...To better accomplish Team 666's mission to apprehend the terrorist, Morpheus..]  
  
[..Confirmed. Sections to be reprogrammed..]  
  
[...Behaviorial...]  
  
[..Stand by for defragmentation and reprocessing...]  
  
Brown's projected body in the Matrix fell limp on the sofa as his programming was rewritten. The notion of requesting reprogramming came to him while Bree was bathing; it occured to Brown that his current coding was incompetent for succeeding in his task. Despite his reviewing and researching of human behavior, he was still unable to properly convey it in a believable manner. He knew Bree was not unobservant; she would've noticed his strange mannerisms eventually and then their mission would've failed.  
  
[....Uploading human behaviorial base personality of formerly deceased male...]  
  
Brown's body righted itself but his eyes remained vacant as his mind was invaded by the recorded imprint of a human man. The Mainframe saved all data on those who expired in the fields for future use and to keep the system itself in perfect working order. After all, the deceased still had plugged in humans believing themselves to its relatives.  
  
[..Testing emotion response....]  
  
Brown's face contorted suddenly in a pained expression as the coding was tweaked and toyed with by the Mainframe's computers.  
  
[..Test complete...Testing further emotional responses....]  
  
The process was repeated as the multitude of human emotions passed over Brown's face, sometimes making him laugh insanely, other times causing tears to streak down his cheeks, others simply exercising the facial muscles as each expression was examined and adjusted.  
  
[...Reprogramming complete. Unit 666B is required to state name, mission objective, and to check communication hookup with fellow Agents..]  
  
[...Agent Brown, serial number 666B, mission objective is to apprehend Resistance leader, Morpheus...]  
  
[..State human title and function...]  
  
[..Robert Brown, federal service agent designed for the protection of terrorist witness, Gabriella Ann Swanson, of field EC-778G, aged twenty- three..]  
  
[..Confirm connection with Agents 666 and 666A..]  
  
Static clouded Brown's wire momentarily before Smith and Jones reconnected with him.  
  
[...What is it, Agent Brown?..] Smith inquired.  
  
[...Confirming connection with Unit 666 at Mainframe's request...]  
  
[..Why is Unit 666B communicating with the Mainframe without my knowledge?..]  
  
[..Unit 666B has requested reprogramming and reassignment, Unit 666..] came the Mainframe's response. [..Unit 666B possesses digital imprint of deceased male, Robert Jackson Brown, aged thirty-five, of field WC-566H..]  
  
[..Requesting reason for reprogramming..] Smith demanded, his patience growing thin.  
  
[..Request denied....]  
  
[...Requesting reason for classification from team commander..] Smith asked again.  
  
[...Request denied...]  
  
Smith snarled, steadily growing irritated at the Mainframe's reluctance to inform him of his own inferior's requests. Reprogrammed and possessing a digital imprint of a dead human male? Smith connected with the Mainframe again, this time inquiring if Brown would be defragmented after the mission was complete.  
  
[...Confirmed...Unit 666B will undergo defragmentation upon completion of team mission objective...]  
  
The answer seemed to satisfy Smith for the moment. He suspected more, but knew he'd recieve little from the Mainframe. He looked to Jones, who had been listening obediently, as was his penchant.  
  
"We're going to see Agent Brown," he instructed, cutting off the connection to the source abruptly and standing. "Disconnect immediately, Jones." Jones did as he was told and rose to follow Smith to the towncar outside.  
  
*****  
  
[...Reprogramming complete. Report to Mainframe for defragmentation upon mission completion, Unit 666B..]  
  
[..Confirmed..]  
  
Brown blinked, his mind returning to the present. He looked around the room, taking in the color of the walls and the visual appeal of the simple watercolor paintings scattered about the room. He slid a hand over the surface of the sofa and declared it soft to himself. Smiling honestly for the first time since his introduction into the system, Brown rose from the couch and approached the bathroom door where Bree was still soaking in the bathtub.  
  
The gentle rap on the door broke into Bree's thoughts and she hooked her thumb between the pages of her book. "Yes?" she called above the din of the water trickling into the bath.  
  
"Are you finished?" came Brown's reply. Bree paused, noted a strangely lighthearted tone in his normally proper voice and replied uneasily,  
  
"Uhm..no, not yet. Is everything okay?"  
  
"Oh yes, everything's fine. I was just wondering when you'd be finished."  
  
Bree shifted in the tub to face the door, her expression the picture of befuddled confusion. "Soon, I guess. Do you need to get in here?"  
  
A pause. "No, I don't think so."  
  
"You don't..think...so.." Bree repeated, absolutely lost. Water swished over the edge of the tub as she lifted a knee to rest her chin upon. "Okay, then..I guess I'll be out in a little bit, okay?"  
  
"Okay."  
  
Bree listened to his footsteps as he walked away from the bathroom door, followed by the sound of the television begin clicked on and the rowdy noises of an old Western filling the house. "Today's too weird for my tastes," she muttered to herself and returned to her reading.  
  
*****  
  
[..Units 666 and 666A are ordered to desist..do you comply?...]  
  
Smith frowned as the cold nasal tone of the Mainframe sounded in his earpiece. He and Jones were on their way to the house, intent on discovering what their inquisitive partner was up to.  
  
[...Unit 666 is ordered to comply...]  
  
Jones glanced at his superior sidelong. "We should reply," he informed him firmly. Smith smirked. "We must."  
  
"Just drive, Jones," Smith ordered darkly. "The Mainframe can wait a little longer."  
  
Jones' eyes narrowed a fraction of an inch at his partner's statement. He didn't like disobeying a direct order from the source's computers. The impulse to create a closed connection to the Mainframe flitted through his mind, but his logic overruled such a brash idea and he returned to driving as instructed. Smith smiled a tad smugly, pleased with his inferior's response.  
  
*****  
  
Meanwhile, back at the tiny house far from the city limits, Bree was sitting up in her bed reading. Brown was elsewhere in the house, possibly checking the survellience cameras, she figured. His behavior had changed in a way she couldn't quite put her finger on, yet the change didn't bother her as much as it should've. He still retained much of his naive mannerisms, yet his speech patterns had changed.  
  
Sighing and sinking down against the pillows till the sheets touched her chin, Bree let her book drop to the floor with a clatter. The bookmark's tassel could be seen just beyond the dust ruffle of the bedsheets and out of nothing more to look at, Bree focused her eyes on the crimson strands fanned out along the wooden floorboards. The distant patter of Brown's footsteps in the hall sounded close to the door, then retreated. Bree rolled her gaze towards the door and waited to see if it would open or not.  
  
Silence reigned in the house beyond the bedroom. Bree sighed and rolled over to click off the bedside lamp. Foolish, little girl thoughts. The only sensible thing to do now was sleep and attempt to not dream about the bizarre events of the day.  
  
Outside in the hall, Brown lingered a few feet from the closed whitewashed door of the rear bedroom. He was still clad in his suit save for his jacket and the tie had been loosened slightly. His new programming conflicted within him as he attempted to think of a logical way of spending the remainder of the evening. The new thought processes inside him told him to go to the room and see if she was all right. The logical, more mechanic side of his psyche told him to just turn around and recharge on the sofa.  
  
The new programming won.  
  
Turning the doorknob slowly, Brown pushed the door open halfway and looked around the corner. Moonlight filtered in through the edges of the thin paper shades on the windows and cast blue shadows over the sleeping figure of Bree on the bed. Her arm was draped over her hip as she slept peacefully on her side, her auburn hair spilling out over the pristine white pillowcases. The appeal was both visually aestethic as well as mentally stimulating and Brown felt a smile tease the edges of his lips.  
  
Leaving the door slightly ajar, Brown approached the bed quietly and bent at the waist to peer into her face. Flushed from the warmth of the room and from the covers, Bree's cheeks were tinged in an appealing pink as she breathed softly through parted lips. The expulsion of air from her lungs was the only sound in the room as Brown did not breathe at all. Fascinated by the rise and fall of her body, Brown placed a hand on her partially-covered hip and allowed his hand to rise and fall with each breath. Warmth radiated from her, into his open palm and up his arm. In that moment, Brown couldn't understand Smith's dislike for humans; they were an endless study of motion, emotion, and energy.  
  
Energy.  
  
His eyelids lowered as he remembered what her purpose was in the Matrix. She was the organic equivalent of a battery, a battery that powered not just the program, but Brown himself as well. New pain shot through him and he stumbled slightly at the unbidden assualt on his reprogrammed senses. Disturbed from her sleep by the breathless sound escaping his lips, Bree stirred on the bed and opened bleary eyes to look up at him.  
  
"..Mouse?" she asked hoarsely, squinting. Brown shook his head at her, kneeling down beside the bed as he did so.  
  
"No. Not Mouse," he corrected softly, his hand still resting on her hip. "Robert." The name left his tongue slowly as if it pained him to say it. Bree smiled faintly at him and closed her eyes again.  
  
"Mmm..Robert.." she murmured, her hand covering his on her side. Squeezing it gently, she whispered, "Stay with me."  
  
"I will."  
  
"Good.." Her voice softened as she drifted back to sleep, her fingers wrapped around his still. Brown looked at their entangled hands and smiled slightly. He would stay. But not like this.  
  
Unlinking their fingers carefully, Brown stood and began unbuttoning his shirt. Humans didn't sleep fully clothed; his previous studies had shown him that. He knew it would've been far easier to simply shift his code so that he would be undressed, but something inside him told him this was the proper way. The human way. He draped the shirt over the end of the bed and slipped out of his shoes, pushing them under the bed halfway with a toe.  
  
Naked from the waist up, Brown rounded the bed and laid down on the covers beside Bree. Feeling the weight of his body dip the mattress, Bree rolled over and pressed herself to his side, murmuring nonsense in her sleep. Brown watched her out of the corners of his eyes, unsure of what to do. Perhaps this would be enough. For now.  
  
*****  
  
Chapter Six: Caution  
  
A persistant rapping on the front door window made Brown lift his head from the pillow and look about. Bree remained oblivious, still curled up at his side, one arm draped over his chest while the other supported her head. Sliding off the bed, Brown materialized the rest of his suit and headed for the front door.  
  
As expected, Smith and Jones stood on the doorstoop, stoic as ever. Brown opened the door and let his colleages inside. Jones remained by the door while Smith casually circled the newly reprogrammed Agent Brown, his hand loosely fisted before his abdomen.  
  
"I see you've..requested behaviorial reassignment, Agent Brown," Smith remarked as he rounded about to face the smaller A.I.  
  
"Yes," Brown replied obediently. Smith ran his tongue idly over his teeth as he searched for what else to say.  
  
"Could this sudden impulse be the result of your fraternizing with the human female?" On Smith's lips, the word human sounded dirty, reminding Brown once again of his superior's distaste for those that supplied them with energy.  
  
"Partially," Brown replied without revealing anything else he'd been thinking. Smith looked up at his teammate from over his sunglasses, his eyebrows arched in such a way that it caused furrows in his normally smooth brow. Brown would've almost called the expression one of sarcastic disbelief. It was Smith's way of telling Brown not to patronize him. Brown cleared his throat and rephrased his former sentence. "Yes, she had a role in my decision, however the main reason for my request is to ensure the success of this mission."  
  
"I see," Smith stated flatly, lifting his head so that he was once again looking down on the other. Brown stayed his ground, his paler eyes following Smith's every inch of movement. Touching the tip of his finger to his lips, Smith appeared lost in thought. When Smith raised his eyes back to Brown's, they were filled with a smug satisfaction that Brown couldn't place. "Very well, then. You may have your little...game. Just be sure you do your job." He turned to Jones, nodded his head at the behemoth Agent, then left.  
  
Jones looked to Brown. "Be cautious." Then the larger A.I. left his smaller companion to his own devices. Brown touched the edge of the door with a fingertip, pushing it closed with a finality that seemed to echo in the tiny domicile.  
  
*****  
  
An hour later, Bree rose from her rest, smiling to herself when she noticed the silent form of Brown beside her. He was shirtless, eyes closed, and hands at his sides like a laid-out doll. Propping herself up on an elbow quietly, Bree took the time to observe him. His skin was smooth save for the triangular patch of curling hair over his chest. His normally coiffed hair was touseled and sliding over his forehead. Bree observed the richness of the color, marveling at its similarity to hair seen on a shampoo commercial. The texture appeared so light and soft that she couldn't resist extending a hand to touch it lightly. The silken strands slipped through her fingertips easily and she smiled. Just as soft as it looked.  
  
Curious about his scent again, Bree dipped her head closer to his skin and inhaled lightly. Again, the faint whiff of sterile plastic and fresh videotape wafted up to her nostrils and she frowned thoughtfully. Such an odd natural scent for a person, she thought, reaching out to glide a fingertip over his upper arm. His skin was as smooth as it appeared, a fact that both pleased and puzzled Bree. Most of the men she'd encountered had had roughened skin, nowhere near as soft and smooth as his was now. Perhaps it was a benefit to being clad in a suit for most of the day; the sun couldn't harm his skin when covered.  
  
Bree drew her attention to his face and blushed hotly as she took in the sensuous shape of his lips. Perfectly bowed with a faint pinkish hue, Bree felt herself becoming compelled to lean in closer until their faces were a hair's breadth apart.  
  
The warmth of her breath on his lips brought him from his state of inactivity and he opened his eyes sharply. Bree backed away immediately. He lifted his head and looked over at her.  
  
"You're awake," he remarked plainly, sliding up into a sitting position. Bree was frozen to her spot on the bed, cheeks flushed with the heat of embarassment. She managed a nod and squeaked out an affirmative response. Brown tilted his head at her curiously. "Is there a problem?"  
  
"Problem? No, why would there be?" the words tumbled out of Bree's mouth as she found the power to move again and slid out of the bed. Turning as she tied her robe about her waist, she asked, "You hungry? I can make breakfast this morning. I don't think we need a repeat performance of your skills." She smiled warmly at the last sentence, indicating that she was being humorous. Brown's programming picked up on the lilt in her voice and he smiled accordingly.  
  
"Okay," he agreed. Bree beamed again and left the room for the kitchen. Brown's smile shifted back to its default expression as he rose and replaced his clothing. Apparently, the new programming he'd recieved was going to make this duty a lot easier and this pleased him. He retained his sense of duty as an Agent even with the human male's emotive impulses embedded in his coding. Logic would always overrule emotion in an A.I.'s mind.  
  
Or would it?  
  
******  
  
Far from the simulated world that Bree called home, Mouse sat in his dim bedchamber aboard the hovercraft, the Nebuchadnezzer, his mind focused on the changes he'd been forced to go through since his extraction from the Matrix. Morpheus had briefed him on their situation during his recovery and though Mouse understood the severity of the situation, he still wished to return to the system and retrieve Bree. Trinity had rushed him out of the college so quickly he hadn't been able to go back for his best friend. Everything had been a whirlwind of activity since then.  
  
Barely two weeks had passed since his arrival in the real world and his eyes still stung from the harsh light of the hovercraft. He had spent so much of his life sleeping, his mind imprisoned in a simulated dreamworld as he fed power to their mechanic oppressors. His body was sore and red around the ports in his arms, back, and head. The shock of seeing himself plugged in like a human surge protector had threatened to send him into a state of madness if Morpheus and the others hadn't been so supportive and patient with his transistion. While he knew he had been saved, Mouse had trouble coping with the fact that his life had been a fabricated lie.  
  
The sound of the crank on the front of his door turning drew Mouse's attention to the present. He looked up expectantly at the arched doorway, smiling faintly when Trinity entered bearing a tin cup of water. She returned his tired smile and handed the cup to him. Accepting it, Mouse murmured his thanks and took a sip. Trinity sat down on the bunk beside him.  
  
"How're you holding up?" she asked softly, performing a quick inspection of his exposed ports and checking for infections. Mouse shrugged.  
  
"It's so new," he replied. "I'm not sure what to think. I mean, I'm glad you guys helped me get out of there, but I can't help thinking about the family I left behind in the Matrix. What's going to happen to them?"  
  
"Morpheus only unplugs those who're questioning their existance in the world," Trinity explained. "He doesn't go around unhooking everyone. A lot of people aren't rady to face the reality of the truth. No one wants to believe that their lives are a lie."  
  
"No kidding." Mouse sighed, his eyes staring sadly into the glistening water in his cup. "I miss them. I miss Bree. I miss my school, I miss my computer. I can't bring myself to believe that my life was all made up by a bunch of sadistic machines. It had to have meant something."  
  
"It did," Trinity assured him, rubbing his shoulder in a sisterly fashion. "Your memories are real even if they didn't technically happen. That's really all it is, Mouse. Technicalities. Everything you know, everything you did, and everything you accomplished was real enough for you and that's all that matters."  
  
"What about Bree?" Mouse asked, turning large, sad eyes on Trinity. "Why haven't we gone back for her?"  
  
Trinity turned pensive. "Morpheus doesn't think she's ready," she replied softly. Mouse's face pinched as he held back the tears threatening to stream down his cheeks.  
  
"Will I ever see her again?" he asked in a choked whisper. Trinity sighed a bit, shaking her head.  
  
"I don't know. It's possible that you'll see her whenever we return to the Matrix, but it's unlikely that you'll be able to speak with her. We have a mission and you're part of it now. Everytime we go to the system now, it'll be to locate other potentials for the One."  
  
"Morpheus was talking about that yesterday," Mouse murmured, swishing the water around the interior of the cup. "He thinks we have a lead on one, right?"  
  
"He's said something to that effect, yeah."  
  
"Will I be going back anytime soon?"  
  
"Morpheus thinks so. He says you need to visit the Oracle before we can do anything else," Trinity explained. At the mention of the Oracle's name, Mouse's interest piqued.  
  
"So, that means we have to go back?" he asked hopefully.  
  
"Yes, but don't get any ideas about running off on your own, got it? We can't afford losing anyone right now," Trinity informed him firmly. Mouse nodded quickly.  
  
"Sure, I'll behave," he said. Trinity's expression softened and she patted his knee.  
  
"Good. I have to get back to the bridge. You're set up for training in another hour so rest while you can, when you can." She stood up and left the room, leaving Mouse to his thoughts.  
  
*****  
  
The glare of reality made Mouse squint as he, Trinity, and Morpheus left the sleek black car parked before a rundown building in the inner city projects. Trinity squeezed his arm gently and offered a soft smile.  
  
"I don't know what she'll tell you, but she's very wise, Mouse. Whatever she says, take it to heart and listen to it," she murmured low, admiration for the eldery Oracle in her voice. Mouse smiled shakily and nodded. Trinity smiled once more then released him into Morpheus' fatherly care.  
  
"Come, Mouse," Morpheus intoned broadly, walking towards a rear door in the building. "It is time."  
  
Mouse diligently followed the other man as they ascended a flight of twisting stairs in silence save for the sound of their shoes on the hard concrete floor. The boom of Morpheus' classy dress shoes echoed in the tiny space and Mouse felt ten times smaller in his presence. Mouse had known of Morpheus for many years now and the day he was contacted by the Resistance, Mouse could hardly believe his luck. Yet, sadness reigned when he realized he wouldn't be able to tell Bree about things.  
  
Bree...  
  
Mouse decided then to ask the Oracle about her. She knew everything, right? Surely she could tell him where his best friend was. The thought gave Mouse courage and he boldly followed Morpheus out of the stairwell and down a narrow hall. Closed doors lined the walls around them, and even if he leaned in, Mouse couldn't make out any noise from inside their compartments. The atmosphere of the hall was somehow lighter than the rest of the Matrix, soothing almost. The low din of music mingled with a television show was carried to his ears as Morpheus stopped in front of a door that seemed to stand alone in the long corridor among the other similar portals.  
  
Turning to Mouse, Morpheus spoke. "Whatever she tells you is for your ears alone. You may tell us if you wish, but more often than not, it is a private matter to the listener. Have patience when she speaks to you; straight answers are not her forte." A knowing smile curled the other man's lips as the door was opened and a middle-aged black woman in flowing white appeared, smiling graciously at the pair.  
  
"Hallo, Morpheus," she greeted in a whisper-soft voice. "Mouse, please follow me." She turned and walked back into the apartment. Morpheus followed after her. Mouse sighed deeply, braced himself, and entered the apartment.  
  
The room was decorated in a style that reminded Mouse of old 70s sitcoms and he smiled at the illusion. The Matrix itself was, after all, an illusion and this was even moreso, though not unpleasantly. The woman appeared again carrying a glass of iced tea for Morpheus, who accepted it from where he stood by the doorway. She turned to Mouse, the smile returning to her soft features.  
  
"She's in there, Mouse," she said, gesturing her hand towards the curtained-off kitchen doorway. "Do not be afraid -- she is very kind." Mouse swallowed over the thump in his throat and pushed past the beaded curtain, eyes squeezed tight like a child expecting to see the closet monster.  
  
"There's no reason to do that, Mouse," came a gentle voice from within the warm kitchen. "Open your eyes now..that's a boy."  
  
Mouse did as he was instructed and did a slight doubletake at the 60- ish woman perched on an orange vinyl-covered stool before the stove, a cigarette pinched between two fingers and a benign smile on her face. She looked to be someone's grandmother in her simple houseclothes and apron. The effect calmed Mouse's nerves and he visibly relaxed. The Oracle gestured to the free seat at the formica kitchen table.  
  
"Have a seat."  
  
Mouse slid into the upholstered chair, blushing slightly as the cushion expelled air from its foam interior. The Oracle smiled at him.  
  
"They have a habit of doing that, don't they?" she asked, referring to the chair with a flick of her cigarette. Mouse nodded and shifted in the chair until all of the air had been released. The Oracle grinned. "How have you been holding up, my dear? You look very peaked, but I suppose that's normal for someone who's just woken up from a long rest."  
  
"Yes, ma'am," Mouse agreed meekly. "It's all very..strange. I like to think I've adjusted well, but sometimes I just don't know."  
  
"It's perfectly natural to be uncertain," the Oracle assured him. "But," she added pointedly. "You can't let that deter you from your purpose."  
  
"What is my purpose?"  
  
The Oracle shrugged with a shoulder nonchalantly. "That's up to you, honey. I can't tell you exactly what to do. I can give you comfort and guide you in you could percieve to be the right direction, but in the end, it's all up to you. You want to ask me something. What is it?"  
  
Mouse shifted nervously. "I have a friend who's still trapped here. Do you know if she's all right?"  
  
"You must mean Gabriella," the Oracle supplied before averting her eyes as she thought. A troubled if not confused expression passed over her kindly face. "Hrm. That is interesting."  
  
"What" Mouse asked, leaning forward eagerly. The Oracle tapped her pursed lips thoughtfully.  
  
"She's here, as you said, but she's not alone. She's facing a potentially dangerous situation, yet..she has no fear."  
  
"Who's with her?" Mouse asked in an even, yet fearful tone.  
  
"If I told you, would you stay out of the situation?" the Oracle asked, looking at the young man intently. Mouse fidgeted uncomfortably, torn between remaining loyal to Morpheus and wanting to go to his friend's aid. The Oracle observed his internal struggle and sighed, rising from the stool and approaching the refridgerator in the corner. Opening it, she withdrew a pitcher of what looked to be lemonaid and poured a glass of it for herself.  
  
"Y'know, kid," she began softly, pensively, "The heart is a tricky subject. Now, don't interrupt. Let me speak." She walked to the table and sat opposite the conflicted Mouse. Placing the glass on the table before her, she folded her hands and leaned on her elbows to look Mouse in the eyes. "I know this is difficult for you, dear. I can feel it. It's a very gallant thing to want to help your friends, but it can also be a very foolish thing to do when you just rush in without thinking. Emotions have a habit of clouding one's judgement and I can tell your judgement has been affected in a similar manner. Being what you are now will cause many a dangerous situation for you and the others. It's important to keep a clear head when those times come.  
  
"Right now, Bree is in a position that she has no way out of. She's handling it the best she knows how; unfortunately, her judgement is being clouded due to her emotions. The person she's with now interests her even if it confuses her at the same time. She cannot see the danger she's in. No one would be able to tell her so unless she believed it. You can't force an idea onto someone no matter how much you think it's for their own good. She's the only one who can know what's considered good for her. A friend's intentions can be noble, but often, they are unwanted, especially when the heart is involved."  
  
"Are you telling me she's in love with this person she's with?" Mouse asked incredulously. The Oracle nodded solemnly. Mouse blew out a breath and leaned back in his chair, his hands clutching at his head in frustration. "It's the Agent, isn't it?" The question came out flatly.  
  
"I'm sorry, sweetie, I truly am," the Oracle apologized softly. "In her ignorance, she doesn't see him as a threat. In her eyes, they were the ones who saved her from Morpheus and the others. She had no reason to suspect otherwise."  
  
"Can I do anything?"  
  
"About her feelings in this matter? No. About yours? That's up to you."  
  
Mouse laughed bitterly. "I have no clue what to do about them."  
  
"You'll find a way, that much I can see," the Oracle assured him, standing and coming up beside him, a motherly hand on his shoulder. "You have to go back now, Mouse." Mouse sighed again and rose, pushing the chair back towards the table half-heartedly. The Oracle led him out of the kitchen and back into the living room. Morpheus bowed his head respectfully to her and stood up.  
  
"Ready to go now, Mouse?" he asked the younger man, who stood dejected beside the elderly Oracle. Mouse shrugged. Morpheus looked to the Oracle, who nodded her head towards the door. "Very well. I will be waiting in the hall for you." Morpheus turned and left the apartment, leaving Mouse with the Oracle again.  
  
The Oracle turned Mouse around to face her gently and gripped his upper arms reassuringly. "Be careful in whatever you decide, Mouse. An Agent is not something you want to toy with, neither is a young girl's heart. Do you understand?"  
  
"No, but I guess I have no other choice," Mouse replied sadly. The Oracle smiled patiently.  
  
"There is always a choice. Remember that."  
  
*****  
  
Chapter Seven: Bring Me to Life  
  
A month passed without any signs of Morpheus and his rebels attempting to come back for Bree and Smith was beginning to grow impatient. For weeks on end, the two Agents left behind in the city observed the survellience tapes of the house, each time discovering nothing but mundane drivel.  
  
"This is pointless," Smith growled one morning as he and Jones reviewed the night's tapes. "This mission is doomed to fail no matter what we do. She just simply isn't important enough."  
  
"Should we remove Brown from the mission, then?" Jones asked. "This is a waste of resources that could be being used to locate their next target."  
  
"I agree," Smith said. "Very well. Order him to close up the mission and send the girl back to her original location." Jones nodded and opened a channel to Brown's earpiece as Smith skulked out of the room.  
  
[...Agent Brown, you have been ordered to pull out of the mission and return to headquarters..]  
  
In the house, Brown looked up from where he and Bree were sitting and watching television. The deep monotone of his teammate echoed in his ear and he excused him to take the call. Bree muttered agreement, her attention focused on the television show. Brown ducked into the bedroom to speak with his partner.  
  
[..Why is the mission being pulled?..] he asked Jones.  
  
[..It's been declared a waste of resources. Smith isn't pleased with the lack of results; he doesn't think the girl will attract the atention of the rebels..] Jones replied.  
  
[..What are my orders, specifically?..]  
  
[..Unhook the cameras, return the girl to her home, and come back to headquarters for reassignment...]  
  
Brown paused before answering. [..Understood...Disconnecting...] Jones' line went silent and Brown let his hand fall from his earpiece to his side. He stood stockstill in the dim room, the light from the window emphasizing his cheekbones and highlighting his auburn hair a bluish hue. The din of the TVcombined with Bree's girlish laughter caused a twinge inside him, a pain almost, that he couldn't explain or place. She wouldn't be very excited to hear the news, but orders were orders and he'd alerady transgressed against his superiors and cuold ill afford another mishap.  
  
Putting on a stern face, Brown returned to the living room and placed a hand on Bree's shoulder. Bree looked up at him and smiled.  
  
"Hey, where'd you run off to?" she asked cheerfully, happy to see him again. Brown felt it best to not waste any time.  
  
"We have to talk," he intoned solemnly. At his tone, Bree's face fell and she felt a shiver pass through her. His voice sounded almost ominous; it terrified her in a way she couldn't understand.  
  
"Of course," she murmured, rising from the sofa and following him into the kitchen where he sat her down at the table. She watched him round the table and sit down across from her, his hands folded before him.  
  
"I recieved a call from my superiors just now," he began quietly. "They're closing down the survellience mission." Bree gasped slightly. "You have to return to the city."  
  
Bree sat silently, her eyes wide and afraid. He was leaving her? Alone? "But..but, what if they come for me? What will I do then?" she asked, tears catching in her throat. Brown looked down. Bree's eyes filled with tears as she sobbed brokenly behind a hand. "I can't go back. I can't be alone. I'm so scared.."  
  
Brown's programming forced him to react and before he knew what he was doing, he'd moved to kneel beside her, his hands moving to capture hers in a reassuring grip. Looking over into his face, Bree realized at once that she was more afraid of losing him than being left alone and vulnerable. She retrieved a hand and stroked her fingers down his cheek gently. Her voice caught as she spoke in a strained whisper,  
  
"I don't want you to leave," she breathed. Brown stared up at her, watching her reactions as she spoke. "Don't leave me, Robert..please..don't leave me."  
  
"I have to," Brown whispered regretfully. "I can't disobey again..I'm sorry."  
  
Bree inhaled deeply, haltingly, then leaned forward and caught his face in her hands. Brown's eyes gazed into hers with hard intensity as she moved closer to his face. Licking her lips once and closing her eyes, Bree closed the distance between them and kissed him with a desperation that echoed her fears. Taken aback by the assualt on his sensors, Brown found himself responding in kind, his hands creeping up her shoulders and cradling her face as he caressed her human lips with his simulated ones. Bree moaned into the kiss and fell forward slightly, only to be caught neatly in Brown's embrace. The pair tumbled to the linoleum floor, never breaking the kiss, and fell victim to the shared sensations of being in the other's arms.  
  
Breathing heavily, Bree parted from him briefly, her fingers tangled in his auburn hair. "I'm sorry," she panted huskily, raining small butterfly kisses over his lips and face. "I couldn't stop..." Capturing his mouth once more, she kissed him with the urgency of a drowning woman as tears trailed over her face and peppered his smooth skin with their moisture. "I can't stop.."  
  
Brown returned her kisses as well as he could, then whispered softly, "Then don't." Entwining his arms about her body, Brown rolled into a kneeling position, Bree cradled in his arms, and rose. Bree caressed his neck and hair as he walked down the hall into the bedroom. Pushing the door closed with his foot, Brown circled the bed and placed her down upon the covers gingerly, his eyes never leaving hers. He could feel her heartbeat pounding within her chest, the blood rushing like uncontrolled currents through her veins as he hovered over her. Her skin was flushed pink and her chest rose and fell with each harried breath.  
  
"You're certain..is this what you want..?" he asked softly, moving her hair from her forehead in a gentle motion. Bree nodded, swallowing thickly. "Teach me, then." Brown knelt down on the bed beside her and watched as she slid up and tenatively placed her fingers on the buttons of his white workshirt. Going slowly, deliberately, Bree unfastened each circular closure, her heart beating faster and faster as his skin was exposed to her eyes. After five buttons had been undone, Bree slipped a shaking hand beneath the fabric and caressed the softly swirling hair there. Brown's simulated heartbeat had quickened accordingly, though the intensity of the programmed organ's bloodflow didn't affect his focus in the slightest.  
  
Removing her hand, Bree finished unbuttoning the shirt and pushed the fabric aside, breathing in sharply at the sight. His body was slender as a willow's and beautiful to behold. Truly, he was the prettiest man she'd ever seen in her life, yet she felt no inadequacy in her own feminity because of it. She just knew he was lovely and wanted to see more of his perfection.  
  
"Lie back," she instructed in a whisper, moving aside so he could do so. Prone now, Bree positioned herself between his knees and held herself above him on her forearms, dipping her head to kiss a path up his chest. The impossible softness of his flesh over her lips made her swoon inside and she found herself craving his touch everywhere. Sitting up again, Bree slipped her shirt over her head and unfastened her bra, letting the fabric fall to the side of the bed without a sound. Exposed now, Bree shivered as the cool air swept over her naked skin. Seeing this, Brown sat up and enveloped her gently quaking form in his arms.  
  
"You're cold," he observed softly, stroking her back with his hands. Bree snuggled closer to him, breathing in his bizarre yet addictive scent and cradling her head in the crook of his neck. "And very soft." Bree blushed at the compliment. His hands brought heat back to her skin and she smiled.  
  
"So're you," she murmured into his neck. "What now?"  
  
Brown shifted his shoulder until she was looking at him. "We finish," he told her in a whisper, then kissed her again. Allowing the emotive response programming take over his reasoning, he slid the earpiece from its position and let it fall to his shoulder. He wanted this experience to be his only; he didn't want the other two knowing what he was doing. Turning and dipping Bree down onto the bed again, Brown covered her body with his own, lending his artificial heat to warm her as he continued to kiss her deeply.  
  
Warm again from his attentions, Bree let her palms glide over the smooth expanse of his back, applying firm pressure between his shoulderblades and sighing languidly when she felt him tense beneath her touch. His lips moved from hers to kiss a trail over her chin and neck, suckling gently at the tender flesh of her collarbone. Her grip on him loosened as he moved steadily southward on her body, his lips never leaving her skin for a second. Every now and again, she'd gasp as his tongue snaked out and licked swirls over her hot flesh. Her arms fell to the sides of her head as Brown continued to torment her with his tongue, teeth, and lips.  
  
Brown paused to look up at her with hazy eyes. "Should I keep going?" he asked huskily. Bree gulped a breath and nodded. Lowering his gaze back to her lower abdomen, Brown slid his hands under her knees and lifted her legs up until they rested over his shoulders, her feet planted on his back. Unbuttoning her jeans and gliding the metal zipper down the teeth, he peeled back the sides of the fabric to expose her red panties. The color made him smile; red had always been a color he'd admired. Hooking his fingers under the waistband of her jeans, Brown lifted her hips up and slid the stiff fabric down over her hips and above his head till they came to a rest at her bent knees.  
  
Time blurred then for Bree as Brown administered some of the most pleasurable sensations she'd ever felt before to her sensitive core. Her vision clouded over in a haze of red passion as she rode each wave of intense stimulation to her body, her hands groping for him in the air like a blind woman. Brown slid up her body again and kissed her soundly, twisting his fingers in her soft auburn hair. Dimly, he was aware of the complete change in his usual process of performing a task, but in this moment of incredible stimuli, he no longer cared. His sensors were overloaded with the experience of touching Bree's skin, though simulated as it was, and feeling the heat of her breath against his face as she gasped for air that wasn't there.  
  
In the tangle of limbs and sheets, the remainder of their clothing was cast away onto the floor and a more intimate dance began between them. As if driven by instinct, Bree wound her legs around his waist by way of invitation for him to probe further with his affections. Brown, driven by his programming instructing him in the next step, obliged by joining their bodies. Bree gasped at the contact, clinging to him as he began his ministrations. She experienced no pain, not that she would've since she'd been intimate with men before, but somehow, this was different. It was like making love to an inhuman creature, not that she'd know how that would feel, but in her current mindset, it was all she could think of. He was precise, perfect, and direct in his labor. Somehow, he knew all of her most sensitive zones and applied the right amount of attention to each. The intensity of it all threatened to shut her mind down completely.  
  
Bree sought the softness of his lips in the partial darkness, moaning into the kiss as his mouth closed over hers, their hands roaming freely over the other's bodies like things possessed. It was not often that an A.I., let alone an Agent, felt the need to copulate with a human still within the system, yet it was also not unheard of. If only for the collection of information alone or by the program's own desires, sexual relationships between man and machine wasn't uncommon within the Matrix. Before Bree, Brown never would've believed himself party to those few who had chosen to become sexual with a human. Now, it no longer mattered. She had awoken something in his programming, something he never would've believed possible:  
  
She made him feel alive.  
  
Bree's body tensed as her end drew near, her nails digging into the soft skin of his back as her thighs tightened their grip around his waist. Brown noticed the increase in her body temperture, heartbeat, and breathing patterns; his mind informed him of the cause and he paused in his labor, watching her. Her head was thrown back at a seemingly unnatural angle against the pillows, her lips parted and breathing shallow as waves of pleasure washed over her. Brown felt a small sense of pride at having accomplished this, but said nothing as her climax subsided and she lay beneath his weight panting and swallowing great gulps of air.  
  
"Wow.." she breathed, partially laughing. Brown cocked his head to the side. "Where'd you learn all of that?"  
  
"Extensive research," Brown replied in all seriousness. Bree giggled and kissed him briefly. Realizing his reply was somewhat stilted, Brown smiled a bit. Naturally she'd find that humorous; it sounded like an attempt at a joke. Serious again, Bree looked deep into his crystaline eyes.  
  
"I never would've expected this to happen," she told him softly, caressing his cheek lovingly. "And now..now you have to go. I don't whether to cry or laugh insanely. I don't want you to leave. Especially not now."  
  
"I must. It's inevitable. I..have no desire to leave you, Bree, but I must obey my superiors," Brown replied with surprising sadness. Bree gathered him in her arms, drawing his down till her chin rested between his shoulder and neck.  
  
"Hold me, then," she whispered brokenly, "hold me until you have to leave me."  
  
Brown wrapped his arms around her willingly and shifted their bodies till he was spooning her. "I will," he said quietly, drawing the blankets over them and linking their hands under them. "I won't leave you alone."  
  
"Thank you," Bree murmured into the crook of his arm, kissing the smooth skin gently as she did so. Brown remained with her until the sun rose the next morning.  
  
*****  
  
Smith looked up when Jones entered his office, a solemn look on his hard features. "I think you might want to look at this," he intoned stoically. Smith frowned.  
  
"Look at what?"  
  
"The survellience tapes. I discovered something rather..disturbing on them this morning," Jones replied in an almost disgusted tone. Intrigued, Smith rose and followed the larger Agent into the survellience chamber. Jones pushed a few buttons and stepped back a bit as the screens displayed the footage from the night before. As the images played out, Smith's expression turned from disturbed to furious as he and his partner watched their teammate willingly engaging in sexual intercourse with a human female.  
  
After the tape ended, Smith snarled. "Let's go. This game ends today." Nodding, Jones left the chamber to prepare their transportation as Smith remained behind to observe the current recordings. He watched as Brown rose from the bed and left the bedroom, leaving the still slumbering Bree behind. Switching to another view, Smith watched Brown enter the kitchen and begin preparing food for the human woman. Smith's nose wrinkled in disgust as he watched Brown play out the role of a human man.  
  
Steeled by this display of humanness, Smith stalked out of the room to the parking garage where Jones waited with the towncar.  
  
*****  
  
On the Neb, Mouse slammed his fists against the hard steel floor of the ship. He, too, had been watching Bree since discovering her location in the system and after seeing her screw the Agent he felt his heart clench inside his chest and his determination to rescue her harden. Yet, he knew Morpheus would never let him return to the Matrix without supervision, and even if he could clear such supervision, his reasons would be declared dangerous and outright denied. The realization enraged the young man, even as he knew the older man would be right in judging it as a risky endeavor.  
  
Behind him, Cypher observed the younger rebel's display of emotion and smiled deviously to himself. For the past four years, Cypher had begun doubting the Resistance's cause and had grown restless in the stifling confines of the hovercraft under the jurisdiction of a handful of unplugged humans some hundreds of miles from their current position. Restlessness led to inevitable thoughts of escape and Cypher did little to hamper these notions. He wanted out and Mouse's plight might be the exit he needed.  
  
Pretending to have just walked in, Cypher made a noise of alarm at Mouse's presence. Mouse turned sharply on the other man, his eyes still angry from what he'd seen. "Whoa! Sorry, kid, didn't see you there!" Cypher regarded him a moment. "Say..you look like shit. Everything okay?"  
  
Mouse grunted angrily and swatted at the operator's chair with a hand. "No, everything's 'not okay'," he groused. "I just watched my best friend fuck a machine." He slid to the cold floor with a groan of irritation, his head in his hands. Cypher did a doubletake.  
  
"I don't think I heard that last bit right," he remarked, unsure if Mouse was joking or not. Mouse laughed bitterly and ran a hand over his short hair.  
  
"I'd like to believe I didn't see it right," he muttered darkly. Cypher approached the youth tentatively and knelt down beside him, one hand supporting his body weight on the back of the operator's chair. Mouse continued. "I was bored last night so I started watching the Matrix a bit, hoping that maybe I'd see if Bree was okay."  
  
"Bree's the friend, right?" Cypher asked, to clarify.  
  
"Yeah," Mouse replied, then continued. "So, I'm watching her and suddenly, she ends up in bed with the Agent that's holding her captive. You'd think she'd have the brains not to do that!"  
  
Cypher ducked his head to hide his smile of amusement. "Does she even know what it is?"  
  
Mouse shook his head, then shrugged. "I have no fuckin' clue," he replied sadly. "I need to get her out of there before she gets hurt, but Morpheus would never clear me for it."  
  
"I know how that is," Cypher mused aloud. He thought a moment then lifted a finger in the gesture of someone getting an idea. "I know what we could do, but it must remain between us, okay?" Mouse nodded, eager to hear Cypher's idea. Cypher leaned in close, his voice dropping to a low timbre. "I have this program, see, that makes it so we don't need someone here to wake us up or put us into the system. I could rig it so that it could take us both into the Matrix and we could get your ladyfriend out of there ourselves. How's that sound?"  
  
Mouse looked down, thinking. "I want to get her out, but I don't want to risk Morpheus' disapproval," he replied slowly. Cypher clenched his teeth to control his growing irritation at the other crew members' devotion to Morpheus' insane ramblings and waited for Mouse to finish. "But...."  
  
Cypher leaned in close, his eyes eager. "But..?"  
  
Mouse sighed and stood. "But what the hell. Let's do it."  
  
Cypher grinned and stood up as well, practically bouncing on his feet. "Great! You just sit tight there, kiddo, while I work my digital magic." He slid into the operator's chair while Mouse moved to sit down in the connection lounger and waited for the ringing in his ears to begin, a sign of being plugged back into the system. Across the room, Cypher's fingers flew over the keys as he modified his program and, hitting a final keystroke, executed the program and soon, Mouse was within the loading construct once more.  
  
Over the system, Cypher spoke. "So, what should we bring with us on the trip?"  
  
Mouse paused, thinking. A grin slid over his features as he turned towards the disembodied voice of his crewmate. "Tommy guns," Mouse said with malicious glee. "I want Tommy guns."  
  
"Then Tommy guns you shall have!" Cypher replied and punched up the codes for the gun model. Inside the construct, Mouse saw a black crate of ammunition and arms appear. Walking over to it, he opened the lid and grinned down on the pair of beautiful, circa-1930s era Tommy guns. Hoisting them up into his arms, Mouse struck a pose with them and laughed. Cypher grinned at the boy's enthusiasm.  
  
"I'm coming in, kid. Try not to shoot me when I get there, okay?"  
  
Mouse laughed. "Promise!" A shimmer in the air beside him and Cypher was there, dressed to the nines in a sleek black trenchcoat and stylish suit. "Nice choice, man," Mouse whistled, genuinely admiring the other man's selection of apparel. Cypher made a dramatic bow.  
  
"Thank you," he replied graciously, grinning. "Now, then, let's blow this popsicle stand and get the girl!" Mouse whooped excitedly and soon, both men were standing a mere two miles from Bree and Brown's location. Turning around, Mouse observed the surroundings.  
  
"Geez," he remarked as they began walkling away from the payphone Cypher had connected to. "We have to walk all the way there?" He looked to Cypher in surprise, then doubled it when the other produced a key from his pocket and twirled it on the tip of a finger.  
  
"I don't walk, even here. I loaded a rather sleek automobile for us to use," Cypher replied, moving away from Mouse towards a fire-engine red Diablo parked beside the street. Mouse's jaw dropped as he beheld the fine specimen of automotive genius before him. "Don't just stand there gawking, kid; we've got a damsel in distress to save! Move your ass!" Cypher called to him from the interior of the driver's seat. Mouse snapped back to reality, snatched up the ammunition crate, and hurried to the car.  
  
Climbing inside and slamming the door, Mouse rubbed his hands together and looked at Cypher like a character from a car chase movie. "Let's ride."  
  
*****  
  
Chapter Eight: Breakdown  
  
"There," Brown announced as he stepped down from the stool in the kitchen. "I've disconnected all of the cameras in the house." Walking to the table, he placed them back inside the case's velvet lining and closed the lid, locking the tabs and placing the case on the floor. Bree sat with her hands wrapped around a lukewarm cup of coffee, her eyes distant and sad. Brown slid into the chair across from her and regarded her silently.  
  
"Talk to me," he said quietly, reaching across the table and catching her hand in his. Bree averted her eyes a moment, one hand pressed to her mouth as she stifled a sob.  
  
"I already told you what's wrong," she reminded him sadly. "I don't want you to leave. I don't want to leave. This has been a strange month, true, but it's also been one of the best in my life. It seems so premature to end it now. There's still the chance that they could come back, isn't there?" She looked back to him, hopeful.  
  
"Smith has decided that there isn't a chance of that happening," Brown told her solemnly. "It really is best if we stop the mission now, before we waste more resources on a potential failure."  
  
Bree laughed bitterly. "Failure? Is that what you call all of this?" she asked without thinking. Brown lowered his eyes and immediately, Bree felt guilty for accusing him like that. "I'm sorry, Robert..I'm just so messed up right now. I didn't mean to imply that you thought of us as a failure or waste of resources."  
  
Brown digested her choice of words. Us. He never would've thought of them in that context. How rapidly viewpoints change after a single instance. Looking up again, he spoke. "This could never have been considered a waste of resources. I have learned much in my time here and I thank you for that, Bree. I am regretful that is has to end now; you have been...very enjoyable."  
  
Bree smiled through her tears. "Thank you," she replied sincerely. "I just think it's odd how things like this always seem to end in a night of sex." She laughed at her joke, though brokenly. "How ironic life is."  
  
"You have no idea how true that statement really is," Brown said more to himself than her. Just then, his sensors picked up on the arrival of Smith and Jones and he rose from the table. Bree followed him with her eyes then looked behind them at the front hallway. Brown walked to the door in what seemed like slow motion, his hand reaching endlessly for the tarnished gold doorknob set within the white wood of the entryway.  
  
The door opened before Brown could reach it and Jones walked in ahead of Smith, striding purposefully over to where Bree had risen and forcibly held her hands behind her back. Brown spun around quickly at her cry of alarm, unsure of what to do. Smith stood in the open doorway for a moment as if relishing the sight of the human female being detained by one of his own kind, then strolled in with all the casualness of an alley cat.  
  
"Agent Brown, this little game of yours is at an end," Smith informed him with a hint of malicious glee in his voice. "You will return to the mainframe immediately for defragmentation and to deliver your reports on your findings. To disobey is to be deleted. Do I make myself clear?"  
  
Bree's mind whirled as she took in the context of Smith's words. Struggling vainly against Jones' iron grip, she cried, "Deefragmentation? Deletion? Robert, what's going on?!"  
  
Smith's glee mounted at hearing her call Brown by a human name. "Robert?" he repeated mockingly. "How charming. Girl, this no longer concerns you. You will be removed from the premises and returned to your rightful place in the system, your memory wiped clean of all that has occured here. You will remember nothing after today." He nodded to Jones. "Take her away."  
  
"Affirmative," Jones replied and effortlessly lifted Bree from the ground and walked out of the house with her kicking and screaming for Brown to help her. Brown watched helplessly as she was thrust into the towncar and the door slammed after her with a finality that shook his sensors. Smith turned back to his inferior, the corners of his mouth upturned in a vicious grin.  
  
"You won't care about her soon, anyway," Smith assured him, then scowled. "As if you could care. I didn't like your going behind my back and having your programming fanangled with without my permission. You're fortunate that the Mainframe has declined my insistance on deleting you completely for this...dare I say betrayal?" The last word rolled off Smith's tongue like a sarcastic inquiry and he smiled to see Brown grow tense. "Now," Smith began, business once again, "connect with the Mainframe and have yourself reprogrammed so you can be of some use to the system again."  
  
".....affirmative," Brown complied reluctantly and made to connect as he was told. Suddenly, a sports car screeched onto the street and two gun- toting Resistance members exited the vehicle, firing wildly at the now defensive Jones. Smith and Brown reacted automatically, pulling out their guns and joining their teammate on the lawn.  
  
Inside the car, Bree shrieked and dove for the floor of the towncar, covering her head with her arms. Bullets whizzed and pinged off the car's surface, bringing yelps and cries from her each time. Outside the window, she could see Brown firing at the offenders with skillful precision. Beside him, Jones and Smith were unloading what seemed like endless bullets at their attackers. Venturing a quick look, Bree slid up the back seat and peered out the rear window, gasping at what she saw.  
  
Mouse, armed with an impressive pair of Tommy machine guns, was firing round after round of life-threatening metal slugs at the trio of Agents. Behind the car, another man Bree didn't recognize was reloading his UZI before firing at the Agents along with Mouse. Torn between her concern for her friend and for Brown's life, Bree looked from one man to the next, franctically trying to decide who to help first.  
  
Outside, the Agents were closing in on Mouse and Cypher with deadly intent. Jones leapt over the Diablo with inhuman speed and clashed arms with Cypher. Knowing better, Cypher quickly kicked the tall Agent away from himself and called to Mouse.  
  
"Run, dammit! Run!"  
  
"I'm not leaving her!" Mouse returned, tossing the empty Tommy guns to the lawn and withdrawing a pair of .45s from his sides. Cypher cursed briefly, then ran down the road with Jones in swift pursuit. Smith advanced on Mouse while Brown kept close to the car as if protecting Bree, his reprogrammed mind putting her life before his work. Bree pressed herself tot he window and gazed woefully up at Brown's determined face. She knew she couldn't get out of the car without placing her life in danger, but she knew Mouse would never fire at her. However, Smith was the volatile one and she felt that he would shoot her dead without blinking an eye if she came between him and his target.  
  
"Dammit, I just can't do nothing!" she scolded herself and climbed to the front of the car, plopping down behind the wheel and cranking the key in the ignition. The car flared to roaring life, making all three men pause in their bullet exchange as Bree shifted the car into reverse and screeched out of the driveway blindly. Mouse and Smith dove out of the way of the careening vehicle. Brown stumbled as the car left his side with alarming speed, his eyes locked on Bree's face in the driver's seat.  
  
Bree stopped the car beside Mouse and opened the door, beckoning for him to get inside. Mouse obeyed without question, diving into the leather seat and ducking down as Smith opened fire again. Yelping in terror, Bree reached over Mouse to shut the door before rotating the car at a dangerous angle and tearing down the street away from the house.  
  
Smith slammed his gun down onto the ground with a cry of anger. "Dammit!" Further down the street, Jones reappeared from chasing Cypher, who had escaped back to the real world, leaving Mouse alone in the system. Jones stopped next to his superior.  
  
"The other one got away," he informed his seething teammate as Brown joined them, his gaze fixed on the now vanished towncar with Bree and Mouse. Smith snarled again.  
  
"Find them!" he ordered. Jones connected to the Mainframe and performed the search. Brown continued to stare blankly at the end of the road, not even bothering to listen to Jones' report of where they had gone.  
  
"They're exactly four miles away from here, near a shopping center. We can reach them easily," Jones said. Smith connected to a human in that area and shifted bodies without a word. Jones looked to Brown. "I would suggest that you defragment yourself before following. Your new programming could potentially hamper your judgement," he advised his smaller teammate.  
  
"It won't," Brown insisted. "I should have known it would've caused this, but there is little I can do about that now. Let's go." Both Agents shifted forms after their superior.  
  
*****  
  
Elsewhere, Bree and Mouse had abandoned the towncar and were trudging through the dense foilage beside the highway. Mouse had a firm hold of Bree's hand as he led them away from the road and further into the wilderness. It would be more difficult for the Agents to appear without human bodies to occupy and Mouse knew that the woods were the safest place they could be at the moment.  
  
As they neared the edge of the forest, Bree yanked back hard on Mouse's hand, forcing him to stop. Mouse stumbled slightly and turned to look at her with urgency in his blue eyes.  
  
"What're you doing!? We have to get out of here now!" he told her insistantly. Bree shook her head stubbornly.  
  
"Not until you tell me what the hell is going on," she informed him sternly. "That's twice now I've been trapped in a gunfight and twice you've been there. You'd better come clean, Mouse, and I mean, completely clean!"  
  
Mouse sighed and fell to the grass with a grunt. Bree glared down at him as he attempted to find the proper way to explain things. Finding no clearcut method, Mouse just repeated what Morpheus had told him. "You're a prisoner, Bree, whether you know it or not." Bree sank to the grass beside him slowly, her eyes locked on his face as he continued. "What's going on now isn't really happening; it's just a fabrication of events. In reality, you're in a pod full of pink goo and being kept alive through tubes in order to power the machines' mainframe computer."  
  
Bree was shaking her head as she digested all he was saying. "No..you're wrong. There is no world like that. There's only now, here. There's only the real world. You're lying."  
  
"I wish I was lying," Mouse said passionately. "Just please, listen to me." When Bree made no motion to object, he continued. "The day they came for me was the day I was unplugged from the system. I woke up in a pod, just as I told you, connected to tubes and wires. After breaking free of the film that covered my pod, I saw something I never want to remember ever again."  
  
"What did you see?" Bree asked in a shocked whisper.  
  
"People. Hundreds, thousands of them, all in pods like I had been. The world was very dark and cold. But before I could take in more of it, some kind of robot flew up to me and suddenly, all of the wires and tubes that connected me to the pod were being unscrewed. The pain was unbelievable. I'd only just recovered from that shock when another quickly came back to me as I was flushed from the pod and sent sliding wildly down a sewage pipe, only to land in murky water. I thought I was going to die right then and there until I saw the metal claw come down and lift me from the water. I don't remember much else after that."  
  
Bree's eyes had fallen to the multiple blades of waving grass as Mouse fell silent. Pods? Tubes and wires? Flying machines with claws? No, it all seemed too bizarre, too straight out of a cheesey sci-fi movie for her to believe. Yet, he sounded so serious and sincere. Bree felt faint. Mouse took noticed of her ashen face and immediately held her upright in a firm embrace.  
  
"I know it's a lot to take in, Bree," he said softly. "But it's something everyone here will have to come to grips with sooner or later. " He paused, swallowed. "It gets worse. For you, at least." Bree turned exhausted eyes on him, waiting. "Those guys who were at the house before? They're not real, either."  
  
Bree's sanity had been steadily snapping since Mouse had started explaining the situation to her; now hearing that Brown wasn't real sent her over the edge. "You're lying now, I know that for sure," she insisted tightly. "He's real. I know he's real. I can see him, I can feel him. He's real!" Her voice rose in pitch as she pushed Mouse away and made to get up to run back to the house, only to stumble on a fallen twig and collapse in a sobbing heap. Mouse squeezed his eyes shut against the pain of telling her the truth and walked over to her, kneeling down and stroking her shaking back gently.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Bree," he apologized sadly. Bree made small noises of protest and tried vainly to push him away. The Oracle's words traveled back to the surface of his mind and he sighed inwardly. Naturally, it would be difficult for Bree to accept that the person she'd believed real and had fallen for wasn't really there; however, Mouse had to try to make her see the truth and that consorting with Agents was a dangerous business for humans. The distant sound of sirens made Mouse look up towards the freeway and he urgently pulled on Bree's arm.  
  
"We have to go now, Bree," he insisted firmly. "You're not safe with them now. You never were."  
  
Bree shot up and slapped Mouse across the face without thinking, shouting, "You're wrong! I was safe! You didn't even bother coming back for me that day at school! You ran off with those spandex-clad terrorists without even explaining things to me then and you expect me to just accept what you're saying now!? What the fuck is wrong with you!? How can I believe a thing anyone says now?" Taking a breath, Bree glared at her friend, who was cowering in shame from her blow. "Just leave, Mouse. Go back to this real world you talked about. I don't want anything to do with it."  
  
"But, Bree --" Mouse began, immediately silenced by Bree striking his shoulder forcefully.  
  
"No!" she shrieked. "I'm going back despite what you've said. I have to know the truth from his lips before I can believe yours. If I ever believe it. Goodbye, Mouse." She stood and ran up the slope and back onto the blacktop, headed straight back to the house. Mouse watched her go in despair. He'd failed in his mission to save her and now all that was left was a strict lecture from Morpheus and the cold confines of the hovercraft he now called home. Slamming both fists against the unyeilding ground, Mouse cursed loudly before rising to his feet. He cast one last glance in Bree's direction, then hurried into the woods in hopes of finding an exit before the Agents could locate him first.  
  
*****  
  
The three Agents had since returned to their headquarters, finally abandoning the notion of chasing down the humans and preferring instead to regroup for the next encounter with the Resistance. Jones and Smith were diligently formulating a plan to get word on any humans Morpheus was thinking of unplugging while Brown sat in silence in the grey interrogation chamber, his mind researching over his time with Bree.  
  
He'd neglected to contact the Mainframe for his defragmentation and reprogramming orders, wanting to hold onto the experiences a little longer. He briefly pondered returning to the house in hopes she'd be there, but the house had been deleted from the Matrix and was once again a grassy field. He was sure it'd be highly confusing for her had she gone back. In fact, he somehow knew she'd returned there.  
  
Turning his focus inwards, Brown surveyed the Matrix for her and as he suspected, she was standing in the middle of the field where the house had once stood. He couldn't be sure of her reaction from this vantage point. The Agents' internal tracking systems did nt have video feedback equipped; as everything else in the system, humans and objects were seen in shimmering green code. Bree was such a jumble of codes, indentifible only by her digital imprint inside the power plants of the real world.  
  
"Have you completed your defragmentation?" Smith's voice cut into Brown's survellience of the system and he brought his attention back to the present. Smith was standing by the door, his hand resting almost casually on the front of his pristine suit jacket as he regarded his inferior silently. Brown paused. Smith's lips pursed in an irritated expression and he sighed. "So, you haven't. I would've suspected as much. Very well, then, Brown, I cannot make you delete your input of the last month, but I trust you to understand the severity of your actions and the consequences they could invoke should you decide to disobey your orders. You were once an efficient Agent; it saddens me to see you so..incompetent." Smith spoke the last word with as much regret as his programming would allow. Brown looked down dejectedly.  
  
Smith slid into the chair across from Brown and folded his hands before him like a patronizing parental figure. "What is it that you carry inside your system that prevents you from following simple instructions?" he asked. Brown returned his gaze to Smith's steadily and he shrugged.  
  
"I learned many things that I am reluctant to let go of," he admitted. "I believe that they could someday benefit our cause against the Resistance."  
  
"How very human of you, Brown," Smith said in a dangerously low tone, removing his sunglasses and placing them on the tabletop. "Lying never reflects well on your record." Brown turned his eyes away again as Smith continued. "You are reluctant because you 'felt' something with this woman, something we're not designed to feel. It corrupts us, disables our judgement. Why do you think humans fail so easily whenever another person is involved? Emotions are a weakness, a mental plague that these simple- minded fools cannot seem to rid themselves of. It does not benefit our cause when one of our own is similarly corrupted by this weakness."  
  
"I think you're incorrect in assuming it's a weakness, Smith," Brown said calmly, lifting his gaze again. "If we could harness a greater understanding of their emotive responses, our mission would become a lot easier. You said so yourself that they become bewildered whenever another person is involved, especially one they have emotions towards. And we were designed to feel these things, if only on a clinical level. Our makers designed us to evolve so as to better serve our purpose in the system. It's inevitable that we, too, begin to emote. I have seen it in you lately, how human you've allowed yourself to become."  
  
Smith scowled and glared darkly at the other A.I. "You tread dangerous ground with such remarks," he hissed. "I despise the fact that we have been designed to evolve in this way. It disgusts me --"  
  
"Disgusts you?" Brown repeated, raising an eyebrow pointedly. "Disgust is a human emotion. You continue to display these changes in your daily speech and method of handling suspected humans. If you wish to perform well in your function, you will have to learn to accept our evolution as it comes. I do. It's what we were made to do."  
  
Smith narrowed his ice blue eyes at Brown. "Your reprogramming has corrupted your judgement as I suspected. Remove it. Now."  
  
"No, I won't. Not until I wish to," Brown replied. He could see Smith's patience beginning to waver, but he didn't back down. "I have one last thing that needs to be done, then I can report to the Mainframe for defragmentaion. Until then, I'm retaining this information." Brown rose from his chair and made to leave when Smith stood in a shot and gripped the other's arm tightly.  
  
"You will remain," he hissed dangerously. Brown looked down at the hand on his arm, then calmly removed it.  
  
"You cannot restrain me, Smith. We're equal in all things," Brown reminded him. "Excuse me." Smith watched him leave in stunned silence, unable to comprehend the other Agent's determination. Just as well you'll be defragmented, he thought to himself bitterly. I can excuse this behavior until then, but should it happen again....  
  
*****  
  
Chapter Nine: Revelations  
  
Bree sat in the middle of the field rocking herself and crying bitter tears. The absence of the house she'd shared with Brown testified Mouse's statements, but even with this proof, it was still too much for her to absorb on her own. She felt as though her world had been turned upside down and inside out, exposing all of her inner fears, doubts, hopes, and dreams as simply as upturning a pitcher of water. Everything inside her spilled out in the first five minutes of her staring blankly into the grassy field, her mind outlining the shape of the house, her ears reminding her of the sound of the towncar's tires on the gravel driveway the first day they'd arrived, and her heart reminding her of how much she cared for Brown.  
  
Sobbing anew, Bree bent forward until her face touched her knees as pain gripped her. Mouse said Brown wasn't real, that none of them were really there. Somewhere, in some dark and distance relaity, her body was supposedly floating in a pod of pinkish muck as her mind was fed a barrage of sensory experiences and false memories. No, she couldn't believe it. She couldn't believe that she'd shared with Brown didn't really happen, that it didn't really matter. It was impossible for her to grasp and she wasn't even sure if she wanted to.  
  
"Gabriella."  
  
Bree turned sharply at the familar soft voice behind her. Brown stood some feet from her, his hand extended imploringly and his eyes shrouded by his rectangular sunglasses once more. Shaking from the sudden cold around her, Bree hugged herself tight as she stumbled to her feet and walked on unsteady legs towards him. Brown held her before she fell from her exhaustion and cradled her with surprising tenderness in the crook of his arm. Bree struggled to control the chattering of her teeth as she spoke.  
  
"I thought you'd left me," she stuttered, gulping the cold air and shivering more. Brown enveloped her more firmly and began rubbing her back to encourage warmth. Bree pressed her face to his chest, her shoulders hunched up enough to hide her tear-streaked countenence as he warmed her with his motions.  
  
"I did leave," he said softly. "But I came back. Why are you out here?"  
  
"I was hoping to find you here," Bree replied, her body beginning to relax as she warmed up. "But it seems nothing is here..." Biting back a sob, she continued. "Mouse said nothing here was real. He said you were fake or an illusion or something equally unreal. Will you please tell me what's going on before I go crazy?" She lifted her head to gaze entreaties into his shielded eyes. Brown looked down on her with a sad expression and he sighed.  
  
"Yes, I will tell you the truth," he said. "But not here." He lifted her into his arms and carried her back to the street where the towncar waited. Sliding her gently into the passenger seat, Brown fastened the seatbelt and closed the door before rounding the vehicle and entering the driver's side. Turning on the ignition, Brown adjusted the heating controls to further warm the shivering girl back up. Bree put her hands in the soothing, warm breezes and relaxed more. Brown pulled away from the side of the road without a word, headed in the direction of the city again.  
  
Bree huddled down in the seat, her fingers playing absently in the air issuing from the vents as they rode in silence. Even though today had been a barrage of bizarre explanations and explosive gunfights, Bree never failed to feel at complete ease in Brown's presence. If the world was about to end in that instant, she wouldn't care because he would be with her. She smiled slightly as the warm car made Brown's plasticy scent intensify, though not unpleasantly. The familiar aroma of his skin calmed her and she blinked back sleep. She always felt drowsy in a warm car, especially after a huge emotional outburst like she'd just experienced.  
  
Brown observed her out of the corner of his eye and noted that she'd dozed off, clearly lulled into sleep by the warmth in the car and pressures of the day. He had chosen a remote location in which to tell her the truth, one that Smith and Jones would never think of looking. Blocking information from them was a simple matter of closing off their connection, but preventing the Mainframe from finding him was another matter. The fact didn't bother him as much as it should've; he wanted to believe that the others wouldn't bother looking for him and put a little trust in him to return and comply to his orders. He just wasn't comfortable with this large of a loose end and Bree deserved to know the truth. Perhaps, if it was too much for her, he could erase her memories himself and have her back in the collage in a second.  
  
Secretly, Brown hoped she wouldn't want to forget their experiences so easily. He knew his own memories were on the verge of leaving him, but there was no reason why they had to abandon her. Humans put a lot of stock in their memories as it was often the only link they had to those lost to the past. Brown knew he was possibly the first Agent to ever feel such sympathy for those precious memories and he wasn't sure if he was comfortable with that or not.  
  
The building he'd chosen came into view and he gently nudged Bree into wakefulness. "We're here," he informed her as she rubbed sleep from her eyes and yawned. He pulled beneath the building near a stairwell and stopped the car. "Pause a moment while I adjust things." Bree didn't even bother objecting and waited patiently as he seemed to look inside himself.  
  
Around her, the parking garage shifted as if seen through a heat haze, color bleeding over the walls and repairing the twisted blacktop beneath them in an eyeblink. The transformation took Bree's breath away as she watched the scene unfold before her. Lights flickered to life as if from nowhere, lending a low hum of electric currents to the seemingly newly rennovated garage. The dingy red Stop sign in front of the entrance straightened itself and brightened as if splashed with a coat of fresh paint, the white lettering outlining itself in shimmering strokes, the color blinding to those in view of the change.  
  
The stairwell shifted as well, becoming a sleek elevator that opened automatically and waited for its passengers without closing its doors after a few minutes. The change completed, Bree turned to Brown, her mouth agape in wonderment.  
  
"How did you..?" she breathed, almost laughing like a giddy child in her first toy store. Brown offered a small smile and got out of the car. At least her reaction to his manipulation of the Matrix seemed positive. He opened her door and helped her out with a hand, closing the door as she stepped further away from it. "It's like we walked into a totally new building!" Her voice was tinged with awe as she looked around them wide- eyed.  
  
"In essence, we have, but you'll understand that soon," Brown said, taking her hand and leading her into the waiting elevator. As they rode upwards, Bree gazed with renewed admiration at her mysterious protector. The lift stopped on the top floor and the doors slid open to reveal a pristine marble hallway. Brown stepped out, leading Bree by the hand towards a room at the end of the corridor.  
  
"Are we some kind of hotel?" she asked, looking around. Brown smiled unseen.  
  
"In a sense. I wanted to be someplace comfortable and it seemed the most appropiate," he replied, swinging open the door and gesturing for her to walk in. Bree entered what looked to be a penthouse suite in the most expensive of hotels in the world and she gasped with renewed awe.  
  
"You certainly have taste!" she exclaimed. Brown closed the door and walked over to her, placing a gentle hand on the small of her back.  
  
"I know it's different for you, but please, we have little time to enjoy it," he informed her sombrely, pointing her in the direction of one of the soft white sofas and lowering down onto the cushions before sitting beside her. Bree watched his face as he spoke. "I'm going to assume Mouse told you what this place really is."  
  
"He said it wasn't real. That it was some kind of program," Bree replied, not believing her own words. Brown looked pensive a moment.  
  
"He was partially correct," Brown replied slowly. "It is true that everything here is a digital fabrication of a normal world, manufactured by my superiors in order to keep mankind controlled in order to provide power to the machines."  
  
"Wait wait wait," Bree interrupted, holding up a hand. "So, I am really stuck in some kind of goo-filled pod as we speak?" Her voice was incredulous. Brown nodded. Bree threw up a hand. "I can't believe it. It sounds so impossible, far too impossible to be true."  
  
"I can prove it if you wish," Brown offered quietly. Bree swallowed thickly, then nodded. "Look to the television." Doing as she was instructed, the screen flickered to life to display what looked to be a newsreel from a time period Bree couldn't place. Furrowing her brow, she leaned forward on the sofa and watched intently as the images of a war played out before her eyes, a war that seemed to pit man against his creations, the machines. As she observed the horrors on the screen, she felt tears beginning to form in the corners of her eyes.  
  
"What is this?" she asked in a whisper. Brown fell silent for a moment before replying.  
  
"It was deemed the Second Renaissance," he told her softly as if instructing a classroom of children. "These events occured long before the first Matrix was created. Man made machine and man abused his creation, declaring them as possessions and incapable of being given the same rights and privileges of their human counterparts. Here is the trial of the first machine ever to appear before a human court. After the declaration of machines being objects and the permission for humans to dispose of these objects as they saw fit, the machine in question, B166-ER, killed his masters, stating that he didn't want to die."  
  
"My god...." Bree breathed, her eyes locked on the scenes on the television. The scene shifted to display the massive destruction of robotic workers, androids, and standard machines alike. The massacre reminded Bree of the Holocaust and she bit back a sob. It all seemed so horrific, so unreal, yet something told her it could be true. Humans naturally destroyed whatever challenged them, especially when the challenger was potentially more advanced.  
  
"After these demonstration acts ceased, the machines retreated to the cradle of human civilization to begin the first fully mechanical city," Brown continued as the picture changed and revealed a very futuristic- looking metropolis. "It was called 01, the first real place the machines could call home. It prospered and soon, dealings with mankind resumed as products from 01 were sold to the human markets. Unfortunately, as humans are so apt to do, they grew resentful of the machines' success and waged war on the metropolis of 01. Those actions were met in an act of peace when the machines' ambassadors attempted to form a treaty with the human government. As you can see, it failed and more persecution of machines resumed.  
  
"Eventually, the machines stopped attempting to respect humans in any fashion and reverted to a far more mechanical form. No longer caring about their creators' existance, the machines in turn waged war on mankind and soon, a violent battle erupted. Many humans died until they chose to block out the sun by detonating black smoke bombs into the atmosphere. Thus, my world is blackened and cold because of this action."  
  
"And all of this really happened?" Bree asked, glancing at him with fearful eyes. Brown nodded. "You said the 'first Matrix' before -- what is the Matrix?"  
  
"It is a computer generated construct designed to keep mankind under control," Brown explained. "You see, after Operation Dark Storm was intiated, the machines enslaved many of the remaining humans leftover from the war and discovered that they could gather the energy they needed from the electricity your body emits. Thus, the first of the energy fields was created. However, since many resisted the enslavement, our superiors chose to fabricate a dreamworld for them to keep them calm. It was called the Matrix; this is the sixth Matrix right now, the one you know as home."  
  
Bree looked away with a laugh of irony on her lips. "This is all so very difficult to absorb...how do I know all of that isn't some cheesey movie you made to convince of your side?" She turned her gaze back to his steadily, hating to doubt him but finding no other choice.  
  
Brown sighed softly, then rose. "I will prove to you that what I say is so," he declared and turned his eyes to the far side of the room. Bree watched as the surface of the wall bubbled and fizzled like plastic in the hot sun, melting away to reveal what looked to Bree as a 3-dimensional wireframe model peppered with glowing green symbols and numbers. Terrified, Bree shot up from the sofa and backed away from the sight.  
  
"Holy shit!" she screamed. "Is that for real?!"  
  
Brown returned the wall to the way it was and sat back down. "Yes, it was real. It is real." He stared up at her through his sunglasses, mutely pleading for her to understand.  
  
"I must be dreaming...that's the only logical explanation for this," Bree whispered in her shock, sinking to the floor and holding her head. Brown tilted his head at her.  
  
"You are dreaming, in essence," he told her quietly. "I apologize for the shock, but I do not believe I could've worded it in any other fashion than this."  
  
Bree stared at him from between her hands. "If I'm dreaming and this is all a computer program, what does that make you?"  
  
"I am an Agent, serial number 666B, designation Brown," Brown replied automatically. "I am what you could consider the police force of the Matrix, myself and Jones and Smith. There are many of us here, all over the world. We govern the system and keep humans from waking and discovering the truth. Or what they could percieve as the truth. No one enjoys enslavement, Gabriella, but consider that we, the machines, were once enslaved by your race as well."  
  
"If there's one thing humans're good at , it's imprisoning others, living or otherwise," Bree said with a bitter chuckle. "What do you do to the ones who wake up?"  
  
"We take care of them."  
  
"You mean you kill them, right?" Bree corrected him. Brown shook his head.  
  
"Not all of them. The only ones we have to kill are the ones who're trying to shut down the system. We need your energy to survive. Being creations of man, we also possess a drive to continue existing. This would never have happened if mankind hadn't shut out the sun and sealed their own demise."  
  
"I suppose not," Bree consented and sighed heavily into her hands. "Now that I know about the Matrix, what's going to happen to me?"  
  
"My superiors wish for your memories to be erased," Brown replied. "But there have been accounts of aware humans living within the system without causing a disturbance with it."  
  
"In other words, the aware ones consent to providing you with energy and you in turn won't bother them?"  
  
"That is correct."  
  
Bree blew out a breath. "This is heavy," she muttered. "Say I don't want my memories erased but I agree to remain tight-lipped about the Matrix; would your superiors still want to give me a lobotomy?"  
  
Brown's lips curled in a small smile at her choice of words. "As I said, it's not unheard of for aware humans to continue being aware. I, on the other hand, am required to have my system cleaned so that I may perform efficiently without distraction."  
  
"And remembering us would be such a distraction?" Bree asked regretfully. Brown nodded solemnly. Sighing again, Bree got to her feet, crossed the distance between them, and crouched between his knees, wrapping her arms around his waist. She pressed her cheek to his chest and sighed once more. Brown embraced her as well, one hand stroking her auburn hair gently. "Do you want to forget?"  
  
"No," he replied softly. "I wish to retain the memory of our experiences. Unfortunately, I cannot disobey my orders."  
  
"There isn't anything you could do?"  
  
"There is exile, but I don't think that is an option at this point."  
  
"What do you mean, exile?" Bree asked, confused.  
  
"When a program is facing deletion by the Mainframe, it sometimes disconnects and hides in the Matrix. They're considered rouge programs, exiles. There are a number of them scattered about the city, but they never seem to bother revealing much about the system to unaware humans. Some deal with the Resistance, others simply continue to play within the Matrix. Anything is possible here, being that isn't real. I can only do what my hardware dictates; I cannot go beyond the rules of the system like the humans can."  
  
"Beyond the rules? You mean, things like gravity and whatnot cease to have a purpose here to an aware human?" Bree asked, her interest mounting. Brown nodded. "Wow..so someone could concievably take off and fly around, right?"  
  
"Only if they have enough control over the system," Brown replied. "Generally, the most they can achieve is a little manipulation over basic codes, nothing incredibly alarming. Anyone that poses as a threat to the system is automatically taken care of, though normally, any aware humans stay out of the Agents' affairs."  
  
"Say I chose to remain aware, would I be left alone if I left everyone else alone?" Bree inquired carefully. Brown nodded. "Would I ever be able to see you again?"  
  
"No."  
  
Closing her eyes tightly against the tears, Bree clung to him for dear life, never wanting to let him go. Machine, program, or not, she still loved him as if he'd been a human man. Curious, she looked back up at him. "Can you feel emotions?"  
  
"I am programmed to evolve the proper emotive responses over time, but no, I do not believe we can feel them as you do."  
  
"But you could emulate them?"  
  
"It's possible. Why do you ask?"  
  
Bree moved to stand on her knees so their faces were inches apart. Taking his in her hands, she stroked the smooth skin of his cheeks with her thumbs lovingly, gazing deeply into his eyes. "Because I think I'm in love with you, even if you are a program. It sounds ridiculous, doesn't it?" Brown regarded her silently. "Even if it is ridiculous, it's still there. I don't want to forget about that. I can't forget about it. In the span of a single month, if time even exists here, you've stolen my heart away and I don't want you to give it back. Please, if you can arrange it, don't let me forget the happiest moments of my life."  
  
Brown stared at her, unsure of how to react to her declaration of love. Love was a defined term in an endlessly-growing glossary of humans terms; emoting it was something else entirely and even he believed an emulated version was pale in comparison to the real thing. "I wish I could return it, Bree, but I am incapable of love in the way you would define it. However, I have enjoyed my time with you and regret having to forget it as well, but there is little I can do about it in my case."  
  
Bree averted her eyes a moment as if thinking. When she looked at him again, he could see something light in them. "You're a program, right?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Can you password protect yourself?"  
  
Brown disgested this. It wasn't entirely impossible to do such a thing to onself, he realized. "What are you suggesting?"  
  
"If you could somehow seal away even a portion of your memories with me and still obey your superiors, would you do it?" Bree's eyes searched his ernestly.  
  
"I could. It would be impossible to store all of the data collected, but I can maintain the memory of you and how you feel about me. Will that suffice?"  
  
"Yes, it would," Bree replied, relieved. "Can you do this before we leave? Now, if possible?"  
  
"Yes, we can do this now," Brown assured her. "Give me a moment to group the data files and store them in a secure location in my system." His eyes went blank as he processed the information and locked it away where no one would be able to detect it. He wasn't sure what she was getting at by requesting he do this, but if it made her feel better, he was willing to do it.  
  
Finished, Brown's eyes reverted to normal and he looked down on Bree. "I am ready. Give me a passcode."  
  
Bree closed her eyes and thought a moment. "I think you might want to program it so it only recognizes my voice."  
  
Brown blanked out again. "Done."  
  
"Okay then....let me think a moment." Bree became lost in thought as she searched for a word or term to use. It would have to be something special, something that only she would know. She thought of movie quotes, book passages, song lyrics, bizarre slang terms, anything that might evoke a proper password for his files. Suddenly, it came to her and she looked into his eyes intently, speaking as clearly as she could:  
  
"Seeing is believing, but touching is the truth."  
  
Brown's eyes shifted again as the passcode was stored away along with the locked files. Gazing at her again, he spoke. "It is done. I will negotiate your remaining aware with my superiors and we will arrange proper housing for you."  
  
"I want to return to our house, if it's possible," Bree said quickly. Brown smiled slightly at her request and nodded.  
  
"Very well. It will be replaced and you will live there in all of the comforts awareness permits."  
  
Bree smiled briefly, then sobered. "You have to leave now, don't you?" she asked in a low voice, looking up at him with large, sad eyes. Brown nodded slowly. Bree shifted her gaze to look somewhere on the floor. "I'm sure I'll see you around..it'll be hard not to go to you, but I think I can handle it."  
  
"You must," Brown reminded her, touching her face gently and turning it towards his again. "Say your farewells now; you'll awaken in the house and I will be gone."  
  
"I'll never say goodbye," Bree said sincerely and inclined her head to accept his soft kiss. It seemed to last forever even as Bree felt her awareness beginning to fade and the sensation of his lips caressing hers began to leave her. Vainly, she fought to hold onto the memory of his touch as he continued to fade. When his mouth left hers, she whispered into the darkness before collapsing.  
  
"Robert...."  
  
*****  
  
Epilogue  
  
Bree straightened from her crouched position before her small bed of flowers and stretched. The simulated daylight was beginning to wane and Bree paused to admire the colors splashed out across the purple sky. The sun shimmered in the distance, a great ball of illusionary fire. Bree stared straight into it, knowing full well it could never harm her and breathed in the air deeply, then exhaling slowly. Even with her knowledge of the Matrix, she never ceased to appreciate its beauty, however fabricated it may be.  
  
It had been nearly two years since her time with Agent Brown and Bree retained her precious hold on the memory of his touch and of his voice, knowing that someday, she would see him again. After leaving Mouse in the field by the highway, Bree never saw him again, though she thought about him sometimes and wished he was still with her to make her laugh. She hoped that wherever he was, he was happy.  
  
Turning away from the sunset, Bree bent to gather her gardening tools and made to enter the house again when a strange car came to a stop in the driveway. Curious, Bree waited as the engine was turned off and the window slid down to reveal someone she didn't recognize. Approaching the car, Bree spoke.  
  
"May I help you?"  
  
The man in the driver's seat exited the car and Bree started to see that it was Agent Jones. Calmly, the larger A.I removed his sunglasses, folded them, and placed them in his breast pocket. "Gabriella Swanson?" he asked stiffly. Bree nodded. " I have something of yours that I think you might like to have back."  
  
"Oh..all right, then. What is it?" Bree asked, puzzled but intrigued nonetheless. Jones opened the rear driver door and stepped aside so Bree could peer inside. The seemingly unconscious form of Agent Brown made her gasp and she practically threw herself into the car with him. Jones calmly closed the door and moved away from the car as if to give them privacy.  
  
Inside the car, Bree took Brown's face in her hands and spoke to him urgently. "Robert? Robert, can you hear me?" Even though Bree knew full well that Agents had no first names, she couldn't stop thinking of him as Robert. When he didn't respond, Bree searched her memory for the passcode. Perhaps it would wake him up, she figured.  
  
Remembering it, Bree spoke next to his ear in a clear voice. "Seeing is believing, but touching is the truth."  
  
Immediately, Brown's system flared to life and he opened his eyes, blinking rapidly. When his eyes refocused, he saw Bree and gazed at her dumbly for a moment. "..Gabriella?" he asked cautiously, lifting a hand to touch her face gingerly. Bree bit back a sob of joy and nodded. "What happened? Where..?"  
  
"Jones brought you here. I have no idea what happened before this," Bree replied, looking out the window at the stoic Agent on the lawn. "I'll ask him, you stay here." Bree climbed over Brown and left the car. "Jones?"  
  
Jones turned and waited. Bree walked over to him and looked up at him curiously. "Why was he unconscious? Where's Smith?"  
  
"Smith is gone. The Resistance's anomaly destroyed him somehow. Agent Brown and I left before the same could be done to us," Jones explained patiently. "During our escape, something happened in Brown's programming that caused him to malfunction; I suspect it was over-exertion. Just before we left the premises, he requested I bring him here before he shut down completely."  
  
"But how could he know to come here if his memory was wiped clean of the events we shared two years ago?" Bree asked, confounded. Jones shrugged slightly.  
  
"I suspect he never allowed his files to be completely defragmented. He retained a single memory of you, it seems, enough for him to know to come here without even realizing why he would want to. However, by our laws, we are required to return to the Mainframe for reassignment and possible upgrades to better combat the growing power of the Resistance. He will have to come with me."  
  
"He told me once that some programs become exiles; couldn't the same be applied to him if he chose to remain in the system?"  
  
Jones smirked a little. "Yes, but I'd rather he not."  
  
"It's his call, Jones," Bree said pointedly. Jones sneered a bit and rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses. "Why not ask him? He's awake now." Jones looked down at her briefly, then strode to the car to speak to Brown in private. Bree observed the quiet exchange between the programs, stiffening slightly when she saw Jones back away from the car to allow Brown passage. She watched with wide eyes as Brown removed his wire and sunglasses, handing both to Jones, who accepted them in stony silence. Another silent exchange between the A.Is, then Jones got back into the car and left without a word. Brown walked over to Bree while loosening his black tie with a hand, a smile on his soft features.  
  
Brown paused before the stunned Bree and cupped her face gently. "I have chosen to remain. My memories have been restored to me and I am ready to evolve further, with your help. Will you accept this task?"  
  
Bree smiled even as tears began trailing over her cheeks to dampen his hands. "Of course," she replied in a choked voice. Brown smiled again and bent to kiss her. Bree gladly returned the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him further down to her. His hands left her face and hoisted her up into his arms, their lips never parting even as the sun completed its descent into the sky and the world became alight in the multi-shimmering glow of the simulated stars.  
  
- End 


End file.
